


Just Another Not So Normal Situation

by EllianaDunla



Series: (Not So) Normal Days [3]
Category: Merlin (TV), Spooks | MI-5
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-24
Updated: 2013-12-13
Packaged: 2017-12-09 09:19:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 31,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/772566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllianaDunla/pseuds/EllianaDunla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Companion piece to Just Another Normal Day, but can probably be read on its own. This contains several strange, funny and interesting situations as the spooks and our favourite king and warlock get to know each others' time and lives. </p><p>Chapter 1: Merlin accompanies Jo to a French restaurant on an operation<br/>Chapter 2: A party on the Grid doesn't go quite according to plan<br/>Chapter 3: Merlin tries his hand at cooking in a modern day kitchen<br/>Chapter 4: Merlin and Jo go on a date for operational reasons, but there's a lot going on underneath the surface and in the surveillance van happens more than a simple eavesdropping job.<br/>Chapter 5: Morgana tries to crash a royal wedding, but finds her way blocked.<br/>Chapter 6: There's more than deer that's targeted at the latest hunt.<br/>Chapter 7: Ros gets breakfast served and Gwen wonders about strange visitors.<br/>Chapter 8: There is a shorter way to the Isle of the Blessed. The problem? It's infested with Wildren.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I'm eating... what?!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin accompanies Jo to a French restaurant on an operation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to my collection (in the making) of one-shots. This story is kind of in line with Just Another Normal Day, but contains all kinds of interesting situations that will never fit in with that story, so I put them here. You can think of it as outtakes. Most of these one-shots will take place after Just Another Normal Day (I got that story all planned out in my head), but there won’t be any major spoilers in here. These pieces are from various POVS, taking place in both Britain and Camelot. This first one is in Merlin’s POV.  
> I've got all six of them written already, so I will post one every day. Enjoy and comments are appreciated.

The restaurant Jo had taken him to was screaming expensive at him from every corner. He could finally pride himself in having some basic knowledge of the twenty-first century, apparently enough for Harry to request that he accompany Jo on a routine surveillance-and-bug-planting-job. Ben and Lucas were both needed elsewhere and the head of Section D wanted a date for his female officer who also had some experience in the field. Who was he to refuse?

Arthur had made quite a fuss, muttered excuses along the lines of Merlin needing to wash his clothes, but in the end he had given his permission. Not that he had much of a choice, not after Harry had come all the way to Camelot to ask for it. That very fact made Merlin suspect that there was something more to this than just a routine surveillance job, but he hadn’t been protesting at all. If he had the choice between washing Arthur’s stinking clothes or dining in an expensive restaurant with a good friend, he would choose the restaurant any time.

It didn’t even matter that he carefully needed to watch his tongue tonight, having to remind himself to call his friend Jane and listen up whenever she called him Matthew. It didn’t matter either that he had to plant a bug underneath that table in the corner when he would walk over to the toilets in about ten minutes’ time. Jo had guaranteed him the food here was unlike anything he had ever tasted. That should be worth it.

They let a waiter guide them to their table near a window, offering them a view of the busy, but charming street outside. It was already dark and past the time people here apparently called rush-hour, but there were still a lot of people about. How there could be so many people living in one single city was still entirely beyond him.

‘You know what to do?’ Jo checked after the waiter had left, taking their coats with him. The area around their table was not yet occupied and the soft music playing inside the building guaranteed that no one else could listen in on this conversation. No one except Ros Myers, of course, who could hear every word they said, thanks to the microphones hidden away in their clothes.

‘Of course I do, I’m not an idiot,’ he replied with a tone of fake hurt.

‘Allow me to disagree,’ Ros’s voice muttered in his ear.

He was seriously tempted to give a witty remark, but then stopped. It wouldn’t do to get seen talking to apparently nobody, on the off chance anyone was looking in his direction. There weren’t many people in here yet, but it wasn’t entirely empty either.

‘I’ll go there in about ten minutes,’ he announced, consulting the watch around his wrist, another great future invention. To keep himself busy he started studying the menu that the waiter had left in front of him. He shouldn’t have bothered. He didn’t understand a single word of what was written there.

‘What on earth is all that supposed to mean?’ he hissed at Jo, who was studying her own menu.

‘It’s French,’ she explained.

As enlightening as that might be (because he could remember reading something about France some time ago), it still didn’t help him understand the words that were staring back at him from the very expensive looking menu. He may be able to put a name to the language, but it didn’t change the fact that he didn’t speak one word in French, let alone that he knew what all these ridiculous long words meant.

‘I’m never going to be able to make a choice from a list I can’t even understand!’ he moaned softly. ‘At least not without making a fool out of myself.’

‘As amusing as I am sure that would be, we can’t allow you to attract attention in there,’ Ros’s voice cut in. By the sound of it she was already thoroughly amused. No surprise there.

‘Standard spooks protocol,’ Merlin muttered in reply. That lesson had been drilled into him ever since he had first agreed to help Section D. Although, looking back on that decision now, he had no idea it would involve eating in places like this, feeling completely lost and out of place. What on earth had happened to just catching the bad guys?

‘I can choose for you, if you like,’ Jo offered. ‘I do have some basic knowledge of French.’

‘And have the waiter think I lost my tongue, letting my girlfriend speak for me?’ he shot back. He noted her cheeks coloured bright red at the mention of the girlfriend. ‘Strictly operational speaking,’ he added quickly, feeling his own cheeks flush as well.

Ros’s laughter in his right ear told him exactly how much she believed of that speech.

‘There he is,’ Jo pointed out, making a subtle movement with her head to signal the waiter’s arrival.

Merlin consulted his watch again. It was still a little too early, but that didn’t really matter anyway. Now was as good a time as any. And at least it would spare him the confrontation with the waiter, effectively preventing him from being the kitchen’s staff laughing stock. He had too much of that in Camelot already.

‘I think I need to go to the toilets, darling,’ he said, using the last word only because the waiter was already within earshot. ‘Will you please order for me?’

She offered him her sweetest insincere smile. ‘Of course, dear,’ she replied. Merlin strongly suspected she would have winked at him had the operation not dictated otherwise. ‘Take your time.’

Merlin walked slowly through the restaurant, taking his time like Jo had said. No one was watching him now and he intended for it to stay that way. His hand slipped into the pocket of his jacket, making sure the listening device was still there. It was. It was a shame really that Camelot had no electricity. It would have been so much easier if he would just have been able to place a bug in a suspicious person’s room every now and then instead of having to resort to sneaking through corridors and listening at doors and windows, all the while risking someone seeing him.

He glanced quickly at the table he was supposed to bug. It was just another ordinary table, made for two persons only. It had already been set and there was a candle burning on the side that bordered the wall and a vase with beautiful, but obviously plastic flowers on the other end of it. The only thing that set it apart from all the other tables in this place was the number thirteen, the number of the table, that was engraved on the vase.

From the corner of his eyes he could see Jo chatting happily to the waiter, making sure the man kept his eyes on his supposed partner and not on anything else, including him. Merlin smiled to himself. He was really getting the hang of this. If he wasn’t careful, he would start liking it.

Oh, who was he fooling anyway? He already liked it here. Twenty-first century London was a marvellous place, with interesting people and mysterious technology. He actually loved exploring it, especially now it was clear that this place and its inhabitants didn’t present a threat to Camelot. It was an added bonus that he didn’t have to keep his magic hidden for the members of the team the way he had in Camelot.

Okay, and if he was being honest, he also liked the thrill of an operation. Merlin had never been one to avoid trouble (he attracted it most of the time) and the people in this time seemed to share that attitude, which was why Section D requested his help so often these days. Not that he minded.

This time it was some kind of secret weapon deal between the Russians and some suspicious British citizen who they suspected had close links with Al-Qaeda. Attempts to bug the house of this individual had been unsuccessful thus far, so when they had discovered this dinner party it had been the answer to their prayers. Bugging a restaurant was so much easier. And since the involved parties didn’t think MI-5 knew about the meeting, no one would suspect anything, which was even better.

He forced himself not to look around him again. That would probably raise some questions with the staff. He just knelt down beside the table to tie his shoelaces again, but in the meantime he quickly glued the first bug underneath the table. As he got up, he attached the second one to the inside of the vase. There was no water in there anyway, so the listening device would be safe there. After that he just walked on at a normal pace.

‘I don’t like to say it, but that was extremely well done,’ Ros complimented him as he entered the toilets. She would have been able to follow all his movements on the CCTV cameras in the room.

Checking that this room was indeed empty, he asked: ‘Was that actually a compliment?’

‘Just get on with it, will you?’ came her reply.

Merlin couldn’t help but grin. In some ways Arthur and Ros were very much alike, even though they would probably be the last persons to admit it. Their refusal to admit that they actually cared about people was just one of those things.

‘It was, wasn’t it?’ he pressed.

He could almost picture her face right now. ‘Don’t you have a girlfriend to get back to?’ she inquired in a sweet voice. ‘I think your dinner’s being served.’

He checked his watch. How on earth could it be that the quarter of an hour had already passed? ‘So soon?’

‘Not everyone takes as long to prepare dinner as you do,’ Ros replied.

‘And here was me thinking you didn’t do gossip,’ he muttered. She must have heard that from Arthur.

‘No, but Joanna does,’ the Section Chief countered, referring to the one and only time Merlin had tried to cook in a modern day kitchen. That was one thing he wasn’t eager to repeat. If there was one thing he hated about this time, it was the complexity of it all. Some things were just easier in Camelot.

In order not to have to give a reaction to that he walked back into the actual restaurant again, noting with interest that the table he had bugged not so long ago was now taken. Both the chairs were occupied by what looked like businessmen to him, but probably were something else entirely.

The man facing him looked like what Ros would describe as a bank manager. Merlin recognised him from the photograph he had seen in the meeting room. He was a high-ranking officer of the FSB (to which Connie still referred as the KGB, although he had no idea why she did that). This was definitely one of the suspects.

The one sitting with his back to him was also dressed in a crisp clean suit, but wasn’t originally British, judging by his looks. Although he couldn’t see his face, Merlin was sure this was the Al-Qaeda man.

He nodded at them by way of a greeting and walked back to Jo, who was waiting for him, the plates with the dishes already on the table.

‘Done,’ he reported.

She smiled, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. ‘You took your time.’

He shrugged. ‘You told me to,’ he reminded her, before adding in a softer tone: ‘You’re just like Arthur; there’s just no pleasing you sometimes.’

‘You did well,’ Jo said. ‘According to Malcolm they have an exceptionally clear reception.’ The elderly technician was currently with Ros in the surveillance van, listening to the actual conversation taking place. That meant that their part of the job was practically over, but to leave now, before they had dinner, would most certainly create some suspicion. Their suspects were already bordering on paranoid. They hardly needed to give them another reason to be wary.

Merlin glanced at his plate, frowning at its contents. It looked like a collection of shells. ‘I’m going to eat shells?’ he asked, eyebrows raised in a manner that closely resembled Gaius’s.

Jo’s smile widened. ‘Just try,’ she urged him. ‘I’ll tell you what it is later.’

That didn’t do anything to solve this mystery, but knowing Jo he knew for sure she wasn’t going to tell him until she was ready. And at least it wasn’t rat. It couldn’t possibly get any worse than that.

So he started his struggle to get his meal out. That was a job in and out of itself and when he finally got the contents out of the shell, it didn’t look very appetizing either. ‘Are you sure this is edible?’ he asked.

She nodded. ‘Pretty sure. They wouldn’t serve it otherwise.’ She risked a quick glance at the terror suspects. ‘Our Russian friend has it too.’

Why didn’t that sound reassuring at all, he wondered. He looked down at his food, took a deep breath and put it in his mouth. Ugh, not only did it look bad, it tasted not so good either. It felt slimy on his tongue and he swallowed it as quickly as possible, even though what he wanted most was to spit it back out again.

He grasped his glass and took a huge sip to get the taste out of his mouth. He just didn’t realise his drink was alcoholic. Oops. ‘What is _that_?’ he demanded.

Jo chuckled. ‘They call it white wine.’

He shook his head. ‘Not the wine, the food,’ he clarified.

‘That is what they call escargots in France,’ she told him.

He gave her a confused look. ‘Escargots?’ he repeated, trying to pronounce it the right way. ‘Is that French?’

The way she avoided to meet his eyes told him there was something very important she was not telling him. The fact that Ros and Malcolm were laughing, confirmed it. Why did he suddenly feel like they were pulling a prank on him?

‘Yes,’ Jo replied, cutting her own meal. Whatever it was she was having, it looked ten times better than what he had. Merlin swore a silent oath never to let her decide again what he was having for dinner. If they ever were going to have dinner again, that is.

‘And what does that mean in a language that we can all understand?’ he asked.

‘Snails,’ she replied without looking up.

‘Snails?’ he echoed, not yet fully understanding what it was that she was saying. ‘ _Snails_?’ Then it struck him. Those weren’t shells on his plate.

He jumped up, pushing his plate away from him as far as he could. He didn’t care their terrorists would see this or that he was attracting attention in a way Harry had specifically told him not to do. Standard spooks protocol could go to hell. ‘Are you telling me that I have been eating a real snail?!’


	2. A very merry, magical and spooky Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A party on the Grid doesn't go quite according to plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this back in December, so that's the reason why this is a Christmas piece. Hopefully it isn't too much so and you'll still enjoy. It just seemed a bit silly to leave it out just because it's not the right time of the year, so there you go.  
> Comments will be very much appreciated.

The Grid was almost unrecognisable, Merlin noted as he emerged from the pods. It had been a while since he had been here, but in those few weeks an enormous tree, decorated with lights, garlands and Christmas baubles, had found its way onto the spooks’ working place. The lights hadn’t been limited to the tree. They were all over the place. And the same was true for the branches that looked like they had belonged to the same tree. They had ended up wound around paperweights, lamps and the armrests of the many swivel chairs.

‘Merlin!’ Jo exclaimed. ‘So good you could make it.’ She stepped forward and gave him a spontaneous kiss on the cheek, resulting in said cheek colouring bright red.

This display of affection earned them a very confused look from Gwen, who, after much nagging from the king and his servant, had finally agreed to accompany them to Section D’s Christmas party.

‘I told you he has a girl,’ Arthur muttered triumphantly.

The new crowned queen of Camelot smiled widely at him, happy for him, no doubt. His other cheek flushed as well. He had been meaning to say that Arthur was wrong, but he found himself struck dumb by embarrassment.

Arthur’s gaze wandered over the transformed room, his eyes widening at the sight of so many decorations. Even at his own wedding and Gwen’s coronation there had not been so many decorations.

Ros, standing a bit further of, watching it all with perfect disinterest, smirked. ‘Sorry about all this,’ she said, beckoning at the tree. ‘But I’m afraid Joanna was a little enthusiastic.’

Jo smiled guiltily. In Merlin’s opinion enthusiastic was still a huge understatement given the state of the room, but he did not complain. In truth, he liked it all. It made the usually so sober room look like a cosy place to be. The absence of the constant humming of machinery was also a very nice change.

‘Where am I supposed to put my presents?’ he asked, distracting the attention away from Jo. Some time ago the team had taken it upon themselves to lecture Merlin on how they celebrated this holiday in twenty-first century Britain and Merlin, liking the idea very much, had started on collecting gifts for his friends. He really did think about them as friends and not merely as allies, with the possible exception of Ros Myers. They had worked together quite a few times by now, yet she could still give him the impression that she thought him a pain in the arse, although heaven knew why.

‘You brought presents?’ Lucas said surprised.

‘All of them made in Camelot,’ he announced.

‘I believe traditionally the presents are put under the tree,’ Ros drawled lazily. ‘Has Jo forgotten to include that part of our tradition in her extended lesson on Christmas?’ The Section Chief gave the, probably very accurate, impression of not wanting to be here. Merlin never thought she was the kind of person who liked celebrations and it would seem that he had been right in that assumption. Nevertheless she was dressed for the occasion in a knee-length black dress with matching high-heeled shoes. It was the kind of outfit that would give every citizen of Camelot just a shock looking at it.

Jo went on to welcome Gwen properly to the spooks’ inner sanctum. The queen had never been here before, although she did know the team by now. Gwen had made one short trip into the twenty-first century before, during which she had almost ended up being run over by a car, the driver of which had never heard of speed limits before. Since then she preferred to stay in Camelot.

Merlin walked over to the tree to put his presents where Ros had told him to, but was stopped halfway by the sound of Arthur’s voice. ‘Merlin!’

He turned around. ‘Yes, Arthur?’

‘Aren’t you forgetting something?’ the king demanded, holding up the bag which contained his own presents.

The temptation was just too much. ‘Why? They’re your presents. You should place them under the tree yourself.’

Arthur caught on to the banter immediately. ‘You are my servant,’ he pointed out. ‘It’s your job to do as I say.’

A big smile formed on Merlin’s face. ‘And I thought you believed in equality,’ he shot back, shaking his head in mock disappointment.

‘ _Mer_ lin!’

‘Yes, sire?’ he inquired politely.

‘Shut. Up.’ The answer was as funny as it was predictable, even on the Grid, and several spooks chorused the well-known put-down with him. Ros of course was the exception, but she watched the scene in front of her that was best described as patronising amusement, the patient parent watching the naughty kids.

‘Shame on you, young man,’ Connie said disapprovingly. ‘You are young and able-bodied. You can do it yourself.’

‘That will be detention tonight,’ Harry muttered under his breath, barely audible. Merlin could only hear him because he just walked past him. ‘Hundred lines: _I will not be lazy_.’ The young warlock could only just keep himself from chuckling out loud. Sometimes Connie did sound remarkably like a strict teacher, or like Gaius, come to think of it.

Lucas joined him as he carefully arranged his gifts under the tree. ‘What did you get for Harry?’ he inquired, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

‘A tie,’ he replied, placing the gift in question on a bigger one that bore Arthur’s name. It had also been the only thing he could think of. As far as he knew there was nothing else the head of Section D had wanted, apart from a bottle of whisky and those were impossible to come by in Camelot. ‘I had it made especially,’ he added. This had been a job in and out of itself. Ties were not yet invented where he came from. It had taken a lot of explaining to the local seamstress and she had still looked at him like she thought he was out of his mind. He had certainly felt like a fool in there, so maybe she hadn’t been wrong too much.

Lucas smiled his trademark smile. ‘You’re not the only one then,’ he remarked. ‘I know for a fact that Malcolm, Connie, Ben and Jo bought him one, too. And I think Ros was spotted buying one three days ago.’

Uh oh. ‘How about you?’

‘Nah, I didn’t buy him one,’ Lucas replied, before adding: ‘I bought two.’

The two men looked at each other and then burst into fits of laughter.

 

***

 

Ros Myers was not made to spend her free time partying. The party had hardly begun and already she felt a desperate longing to get out of here as soon as soon as possible. But apparently this was one of those non-negotiable issues of Harry’s. He had decreed that a small Christmas celebration was good for teambuilding and strengthening the bonds with Camelot.

‘And since when is the service responsible for kissing politicians’ bloody backsides?’ she had demanded when he announced the party to her in his office. No doubt this was not one of his own ideas. The entire proposal had Jo’s name written all over it. Anything to get their ancient allies back in London, she scoffed. The junior officer was entirely too taken in by Camelot’s tripping-over-his-own-feet warlock. ‘Don’t we have our own politicians to do that kind of work? They sure get practise enough.’

Harry did his best to maintain a stern expression, although Ros knew he privately agreed with her statement, especially the last part. ‘King Arthur isn’t your average politician, Ros. And you know full well we’re the only ones aware of the portal to Camelot. We can’t hand them over to the Home Office or, even better, the Foreign Office.’

 _Well, more fool us_. It wasn’t that she disliked Arthur and Merlin. The latter was actually a good spy, professional, skilled and devoted, albeit a bit clumsy from time to time. She might even have recruited him herself had he not been from another time and place, although naturally she would never admit such a thing when called on it. For Arthur she had a reluctant respect. He wasn’t as good a spy as his clumsy sidekick, but he did have a strong sense of loyalty and justice, things she recognised in herself as well. So, she didn’t dislike either of them, but if their presence meant she had to attend a party when she was in a less than celebratory mood, then it was another matter entirely.

‘If we want to strengthen bonds, then why not arrange a wedding between Merlin and Jo? That is the custom in their time for forging alliances, isn’t it?’ she shot back.

Harry tried to give her a stern look, but the effect of it was somewhat undermined by his failed attempts not to chuckle. ‘This is non-negotiable, Rosalind,’ he told her when he had his voice under control again. ‘You are going to that party. And that’s an order.’

Before she could even start to object, the next crisis interfered with her protests and the argument was abandoned. And even Ros knew better than to ignore one of Harry Pearce’s direct orders, especially when he used her full name, which always meant that he was losing patience with her.

So, now here she was, standing in the middle of the Grid, that had been decorated so extravagantly that it now looked like someone had just detonated a bomb in the big box with decorations. It wasn’t exactly Christmas yet, not until a few days actually, but this place most definitely looked like it was already.

Ros’s eyes glanced over the occupants of the room. Queen Guinevere, who kept insisting that they call her Gwen, stood at Malcolm’s transformed desk talking to Connie and the technician himself. Arthur and Harry had sat themselves down near the meeting room, discussing something with a lot of arm gestures. Jo and Ben had gone to fetch drinks and Lucas and Merlin were laughing near the Christmas tree. And she just stood there, all alone, for once not knowing what to do with herself.

It didn’t really help that she remembered precisely what the Grid had looked like a year ago. There had been no party then, no decorations, nothing to even suggest it was Christmas at all. A year ago the place had been alive with the noise of computers, shouted voices on phones, and yelled information all over the place. It had been a chaos of frantic activity as they had just learned that Al-Qaeda had detonated a bomb in a church full of people. As horrible as that had been, at least Adam had been there. That alone made her choose that Christmas over this one, any time.

 _Oh, get a grip, Myers!_ she berated herself. _You’re a senior intelligence officer, not some sodding sentimental idiot. Pull yourself together!_

Her ranting at herself helped a little. It helped her to remember that she was a spy and even though she obviously still didn’t want to be here, she could pretend. It wouldn’t be the first time she had acted her way through a party and it wouldn’t be the last time either.

She straightened her back and glanced around the room, selecting a group of people that wouldn’t be too annoying to be around. That meant Harry and Arthur were out of the question. Harry wasn’t that bad, in fact he came closer to family than her real one, but if she had the choice she much rather avoided Arthur. He might be a good king, but the fact that he always thought he was right hadn’t changed since they first met and she could do without that kind of argument tonight. Connie, Guinevere and Malcolm were also ruled out. Wherever Malcolm went, there was talk about technical stuff no normal human being could possibly understand. To be honest, it surprised her that Gwen had yet to make a run for it. Jo and Ben were also very capable of fetching drinks without her constant supervision (which was about the only thing Ros would trust them to do alone), which left Merlin and Lucas.

 _Definitely the lesser evil_ , she decided, moving towards them.

‘What’s all that fun about?’ she demanded.

Merlin, who hadn’t seen her coming, staggered a few steps back, startled. And of course, being Merlin, he just had to walk right into the bloody Christmas tree. The decorated monstrosity started swaying dangerously, but fortunately remained in place. Unfortunately the same couldn’t be said about the Christmas baubles. Ros could tell that this ugly purple one was about to take a short trip towards the ground. She could also tell there was no way she would be fast enough to prevent it from happening.

The bauble, as predicted, started to fall, but suddenly hovered in mid-air, only inches above the ground. Her head swivelled in Merlin’s direction, just in time to see the golden colouring leave his eyes. Right, she kept forgetting about his magical abilities. No matter how many times she had seen it by now, it still freaked her out. Maybe it was because she still didn’t have a rational explanation for it.

‘Sorry.’ Merlin produced an apologetic smile as he bended over and grabbed the object from the air, placing it back in the tree as if he had done nothing more significant than pouring a cup of coffee.

Ros decided to ignore it, instead opting on repeating her earlier question. ‘So, what is the fun all about?’

Lucas’s grin predicted trouble. ‘What did you buy for Harry?’ he asked.

Ros snorted. ‘And you call yourself a spy?’ she retorted.

‘It’s a tie, isn’t it?’ he insisted.

Grudgingly she had to admit that he was good. She hated the whole present-buying nonsense that accompanied Christmas these days and she had been as quick and as secretive about it as she possibly could. It would seem that she hadn’t been secretive enough, given the fact that he had worked it out. ‘Do you also know what I bought for the rest of the team?’ she said by way of a reply.

‘Told you,’ Lucas told Merlin. Both men bore equally big grins on their faces.

Now she was getting a little suspicious. ‘Told him what?’

‘Everyone has gotten Harry a tie,’ Lucas clarified. ‘With the possible exception of Arthur.’

Despite her glum mood Ros cracked a smile. Maybe it would be funny to see Harry’s face when he opened his presents.

 

***

 

Merlin was actually quite enjoying himself by the time Jo announced it was time to open their presents. Even Ros seemed to be making a real effort to be cheerful, although Merlin could tell her heart wasn’t in it.

Opening the presents turned out to be great fun. Someone, possibly Lucas, had thought it a good idea to give Ros a box of sweets. The accompanying note expressed the wish it would make her a great deal sweeter and might just help her gain some weight, so she wouldn’t be able to hide behind lampposts anymore. Ros’s expression had been priceless. Merlin suspected the senior officer didn’t really care about that. He had also given Harry a rainbow-striped tie, which everyone knew immediately he was never ever going to wear.

Arthur received a set of books titled European History For Dummies, Politics For Dummies and The Middle East for Dummies, because he still pretended to be the Middle Eastern expert whenever he came over to London. The message told the fuming king that reading these books would certainly prepare him for every question the Home Secretary might throw at him. Merlin suspected Arthur might have some problems with the last two words of every title, but he himself could definitely see the humour in it all.

He laughed loudest of them all when he received a watch, which would doubtlessly help him not to forget the time and save him some objects flung at his head, or so the note in Jo’s hand said.

The best part of the evening was when Harry started getting his gifts. One tie after the next came out of the wrapping paper and although amused, especially by the one Lucas had given, Harry also started to get annoyed by the lack of variation in gifts. ‘The next person to give me a tie will be serving tea for the next decade!’ he threatened, when he opened a striped tie given to him by Malcolm.

Gwen raised her eyebrows. She didn’t know Harry Pearce very well yet. Everyone who did already knew it was an empty threat, but Gwen didn’t. After all, she had only heard it once before, when Arthur, who had taken a liking to the sentence, had shouted it at Gwaine when the knight had showed up with a hangover in training. ‘If you dare to come here drunk one more time, I swear you’ll be serving tea for the next decade!’ the king had yelled on top of his lungs. That had caused some more eyebrows to shoot upwards, since no one, except Merlin and Arthur that is, had ever heard of tea. Nevertheless the general idea had been conveyed and business went on as usual. No one had paid it any more attention, that is, until the next time Gwaine had stumbled on to the training field, eyes half closed to prevent too much light from invading his pounding head, with a swaggering to his step that told everyone with eyes in their heads exactly where he had spent the previous few hours. Arthur had actually taken some teabags with him from London, had sent Merlin to prepare them and had then ordered Gwaine to hand the cups out to the knights. The young warlock still chuckled at the memory.

‘Shall I then?’ he asked. Without waiting for an answer he shoved his present into Harry’s hands. ‘Merry Christmas.’

The head of Section D looked warily at the package and then removed the wrapping paper Jo had provided him with several weeks ago. The look in his eyes as yet another tie was revealed caused Lucas to actually fall off the desk he perched on, howling with laughter. Even Ros couldn’t maintain her standard expression of disapproval. The Section Chief cracked a smile. ‘No one can say you don’t have enough ties anymore, Harry,’ she remarked. ‘Or comment on how boring they are,’ she added as an afterthought.

That was all too true. Section D seemed to have made it their personal mission to make sure Harry Pearce had gotten enough what Lucas had called interesting ties. The rainbow one had been a fine example of that, but the boss had also received a yellow one from Jo, an orange one from Ben and a red one with Santa Clause faces from Connie. The one that he now held in his hands was crimson red, with gold embroidery on it: the golden dragon of the Pendragons with the spooks’ personal motto _Regnum Defende_ under it in an elegant hand.

‘You should wear that to the next meeting with the Home Secretary, Harry,’ Lucas remarked.

The head of the section fixed him with the iciest glare he could manage. ‘Do you want to get sent back to Russia?’

Lucas looked uneasy for a second, but then the grin was firmly back in place. He shrugged. ‘I don’t know. At least they have a white Christmas there. It seems we have to make do with typical English rain again.’

The cheer had died down a bit. Despite Lucas’s remark everyone felt the tension that had entered the room with Harry’s supposedly funny question. Lucas’s imprisonment in Russia was still a sore point for both men, Merlin knew, and he wondered whether there was anything he could do to break the awkward silence.

He needn’t have bothered. Ros’s phone already took care of that. The Section Chief wasted no time in snatching the device from a nearby desk and pressing the right button. ‘Myers,’ she barked. ‘Yes, I see… We’re on it.’ It had to be the shortest phone call in Merlin’s memory, but the one with the greatest effect. All the blood seemed to have drained from Ros’s face.

‘Are you going to tell us or are you going to keep us waiting till kingdom come?’ Harry demanded. The atmosphere had turned rather icy. Everyone sensed there was something very wrong. There had to be.

‘There has been an explosion,’ Ros reported.

‘In a church again?’ Jo asked in a worried voice. Merlin recalled her telling that was what had happened the previous year, so he understood where her question was coming from.

Ros’s face as she replied would suffice to make even Morgana run for cover. ‘No, a shopping centre this time.’

The warlock knew what this meant; the party was over. But then, he could have been expecting it. Since when did he know of a party that had not resulted in chaos and disaster one way or another anyway? And after all, this was just another normal day. So they each put down their presents and got down to work.


	3. Cooking? Piece of cake!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin tries his hand at cooking in a modern day kitchen.

Jo was aware of Merlin’s eyes appraising her house as they slowly walked towards it from the place she had parked her car. It made her look at it with different eyes. Mostly she hardly paid any attention to it at all, but for Merlin it was all new and strange.

Her house was a normal house, nothing special and most certainly nothing different from all the other houses in the street: One-story, with a lot of windows, a small front garden and a little bigger one at the back.

Nothing extraordinary at all, yet Merlin seemed to think there was. His eyes had widened in surprise and something that appeared to be disbelief. ‘All this is yours?’ he asked, looking at her.

She bit back a chuckle. ‘Yes,’ she simply replied. And, to tease him a bit, she added: ‘My last house was bigger, but I moved a few months ago.’

It had the desired effect. The warlock’s jaw dropped.

‘Come on, let’s go in,’ she suggested. They had halted when Merlin had asked his question. Realising that the neighbours might think this behaviour a bit strange, she ushered them forwards again. The last thing an MI-5 officer must do was attracting attention. That had been drilled into her head since the first day of training. ‘I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. And if I’ve got to get a takeaway one more time, I might just go crazy.’

Too late she realised Merlin didn’t get this. ‘Takeaway?’ he asked as they made their way to the front door.

She had once again forgotten how little Merlin really knew about this time. He had made quite an effort to understand, but his attention had mostly been focused on the operation and everything to do with that. Things that were normal to her, like takeaway and the size of her house, were still completely alien to him. Again she tried to imagine herself in his shoes, trying to see the world as he saw it, but she found herself failing. This place must be bewildering. Good grief, it might even feel like a different world altogether. At least she had some knowledge of the past, of his land and age. She would probably be able to cope there, without making too much of a fool out of herself. Merlin and Arthur didn’t have that luxury. They had just been thrown (or dragged, after all it was Ros who caught them) into twenty-first century Britain, with no knowledge about it whatsoever. Taken that into account it was surprising how well Merlin handled it all.

She searched the pockets of her jacket for her keys, but couldn’t find them. ‘Food you can just buy at the shop,’ she explained absent-mindedly. ‘No need to cook it, just ready to go.’

‘Sounds like heaven,’ Merlin muttered.

This time she did laugh. ‘It’s also very expensive when you do it for extended periods of time. Most of it is rather unhealthy anyway.’ She promised herself to take him to a McDonalds if they ever had the time for it. That would no doubt be an interesting experience for him. ‘And I have just eaten it one time too many lately,’ she added. That was the natural result of long hours on the Grid. Most of the time someone would pop out for a while around dinnertime and return in an hour with arms full of bags and boxes, which were emptied and distributed among the working officers. Since Samir’s capture she had eaten at home exactly two times.

‘I see,’ Merlin said, his tone belying his words.

She smiled, still looking for her keys. ‘It doesn’t matter if you don’t,’ she told him.

He smiled sheepishly back at her. ‘That obvious?’

‘Only because I know how to listen,’ she assured him. ‘And I. Can’t. Find. My. Keys!’ She had a vague memory of placing them on her desk the previous morning. It was only now that she realised that there was no memory of taking them with her from the Grid. She moaned. ‘I think I must have left them at work.’

To her surprise Merlin’s smile widened into a grin. ‘Let me?’ he asked.

‘Of course?’ Her confusion made that her words came out as a question rather than a statement.

Merlin held out a hand to the door, muttered some inaudible spell and his eyes flashed gold. Jo blinked as she heard the door unlock itself and then saw it swing open. Merlin looked at her as if nothing unusual had happened, shrugging. ‘All right?’ he asked.

She nodded, trying to hide her amazement. Of course she knew he was a warlock, but to see him actually practising magic was something else entirely. ‘Fine,’ she replied, beckoning him in. ‘After you. The living room is to your right.’

The warlock did a few steps into the hallway, looking around him, and then walked through to the living room, all the while looking at the objects that were still unfamiliar to him. Jo would have thought that, having been on the Grid, he would have seen it all. Everything there was state of the art, while her own home was rather old-fashioned. The only thing new in it was her television set.

‘You live here?’ Merlin asked, his voice a study in disbelief.

‘Yes,’ she replied. ‘I know it isn’t much…’

He cut her off. ‘I didn’t mean it like that. It’s great. Where I live with Gaius is about just the size of your living room and kitchen, nothing more.’

‘Do you want a tour of the house then?’ she asked.

He nodded, smiling widely, giving the impression of a child who had just found his presents under the tree on Christmas morning. If it was true what he said, and that she didn’t doubt, he wasn’t used to people having so much personal space. Then that would explain why his eyes had widened so much when he saw her house for the first time.

She showed him round, explaining objects he had not yet seen. Sometimes he asked about things that were completely normal to her and a few times she really had to remind herself that he came from a time where you had to go down to the well to fetch water for your bath and you had to do the laundry all by hand instead of being able to shove it all in a machine, push the right button and wait for it to be finished.

‘I’m sorry, is it all too much?’ she inquired at a certain moment. They had ended up in the kitchen and Merlin was studying the fridge with barely concealed curiosity.

He offered her a wide smile. It was his way to say that he was all right, she had worked out. ‘I’m fine,’ he said, making her wonder exactly how many times he had said that over the last twenty-four hours. He said it when he didn’t understand something, when he was confused, when it was all too much and when he genuinely meant it. Jo guessed it was just too much to take in right now.

‘You sure?’ she therefore urged.

‘I’m fine, really,’ he repeated. ‘I guess I understand why there is no more magic in this age,’ he added, his happy expression turning to sad. ‘You just don’t need it anymore. I tend to use magic to get all my chores done in time, but you just have all this machinery to take care of all your household duties. And your weapons are powerful too. You don’t need magic to fight your foes.’ There was more than disappointment in his voice. It was almost as if he was grieving, she decided.

And she supposed she knew what exactly was bothering him. ‘We still need you, you know,’ she told him, not even sure why she wanted to reassure him. But she just couldn’t bear to see him so unhappy. It didn’t suit him. ‘There are still things only magic can achieve,’ she argued.

‘Like what?’ he shot back.

Fortunately for her she had an answer ready. ‘Like what you did to our cell door,’ she replied without a moment’s hesitation. ‘Magic is still a stronger weapon than any of our guns, I assure you. They wouldn’t have been able to damage the door that badly.’ And, as he gave her a disbelieving frown by way of a reply, she added: ‘There’s a reason Harry wanted you on our operation so much, Merlin. He wouldn’t have bothered to keep you, go to the trouble of letting us explain all this to you, brief you on a secret operation if he didn’t think it would be worth it.’ Apart from boosting his self-esteem, it was also true. Harry had been exited, although he tried to hide it, once he was over the initial shock of having to deal with medieval, legendary figures. He had also calmed down considerably. Before Merlin offered his help, Harry had been tense and short-tempered, the direct result of handling such a sensitive operation. Now that he had a weapon his opponents didn’t, he was back to his normal self.

The look in Merlin’s eyes, however, told her he still seriously doubted that.

To keep herself busy and to give herself the time to think of an answer she inspected the fridge to see what was still in there and, more importantly, what was still edible. The fact that she had hardly been at home and had eaten mostly at work for the past few weeks now resulted in an impressive collection of food gone bad in her fridge and cupboard. ‘Shit!’ she cursed under her breath.

‘What’s wrong?’ Merlin asked.

‘Some stuff gone bad,’ she replied, throwing the lot of it in the waste bin. ‘But I think there’s still enough to make a decent pasta from all this.’ She did think she remembered buying pasta some time ago at least.

Merlin shot her yet another quizzical look. ‘Pasta?’

‘Italian food,’ Jo explained. She was glad she had given him a map of Europe earlier that day. ‘Tasty, easy to make and probably still unknown in Camelot,’ she added for good measure.

That got a good laugh out of him. ’I bet,’ he muttered. All of a sudden his expression went thoughtful and then his entire face lit up again. ‘If it’s so easy to make, shall I cook then?’ he proposed.

 

***

 

For a moment Merlin wondered if he had somehow spoken in a foreign language. Jo’s face had gone blank as she just stared at him. If he had to put a name to her expression it would be disbelief. His host clearly didn’t know what to with his unexpected idea.

‘I’m a decent cook,’ he offered when she remained silent. The knights certainly seemed to think so.

Her ability to speak returned. ‘You can cook?’

He smiled at her. ‘It’s just one of my many talents. And you said pasta was easy to make.’ He shrugged, as if it was no big deal, which it wasn’t to him. Jo really looked exhausted. From what she had told him the entire team had been extremely busy the past few weeks, getting hardly any time to rest at all. And now she had to put up with him on top of all that while she probably wanted nothing more than to get an early night and have some time to herself. The least he could do was taking the task of the cooking out of her hands.

‘Yes…’ She still seemed hesitant.

‘I can cook,’ he repeated. ‘Really.’

‘All right,’ she agreed. ‘Do you want me to show you where everything is and how everything works?’

He nodded. If he was to pull this off, he would need that. After all, he had never been in such a kitchen. To tell the truth, he had never cooked in an actual kitchen at all. Gaius didn’t have much kitchen to speak of, Arthur’s food came from the royal kitchens, all prepared and ready to go (and Merlin doubted the cook would let him even use “her” kitchen) and when he did cook for Arthur and the knights on a quest or hunting trip he had to make do with a campfire. This was so much more than he was used to, but he soon learned that the basics of cooking hadn’t changed much over the centuries. It were only the means that had altered. True, he didn’t have an actual fire here to heat things up and most of his ingredients were as good as prepared already. This might very well prove easier than in Camelot. There was very little that could go wrong.

‘Are you sure you get it all?’ Jo asked at the end of her extensive explanation.

The ingredients and equipment lay all before him on the kitchen table. Jo had written down the recipe for the sauce and the instructions for how to make the pasta shells were actually on the back of the box. She truly did make it very difficult for him to mess it up. And even if it all went belly-up (as Harry liked to call it) he was a resourceful person. He had to be with his destiny, so surely he could handle cooking dinner for the two of them.

‘I get it,’ he said with more confidence than he really felt. ‘Why don’t you go to the living room and make yourself comfortable?’ He threw in his widest smile to convince her that he had everything under control.

‘All right?’ It came out as a question again.

‘It will be fine,’ he assured her.

Jo took a deep breath and then nodded. ‘All right. I’ll leave you to it, then.’ She threw one last look at the kitchen to make sure she really had given him all he needed. She then nodded again and left. ‘Call me if you need help.’

 _I won’t need it_. But since that might sound rather arrogant and presumptuous he didn’t say it out loud. He understood Jo’s surprise and hesitance to a certain extent. There weren’t many men that knew how to cook even a half-decent meal where he came from and it would seem it was no different here. But he wasn’t just any ordinary man. He was King Arthur’s manservant and he was the powerful warlock Emrys. If he failed to prepare a meal the ordinary way, he could always use his magic to save it, even now that he dealt with a twenty-first century kitchen that looked like it belonged to a completely different world.

He read over the recipe and checked the instructions on the box with pasta shells. The sauce would take the longest to make, he decided. All that needed to be done with the pasta was cooking it for the exact amount of time it said in the instructions. That wouldn’t really be difficult.

He turned to look at the vegetables Jo had put on the table. Most of them he recognised from Camelot and that was a relief, he had to admit. He had half started to expect that everything here was different.

He set about it with a vengeance, chopping them up and throwing them in the pan that stood next to it, taking care not to chop his fingers with the vegetables. It would be just like him to make such a clumsy mistake and for half a second he contemplated using magic to do the job. He was sure Jo wouldn’t mind. But Gaius had told him just one time too often to not use magic for chores that could be done by hand as well, so in the end he did as his father-figure had learned him.

He was starting to feel slightly pleased with himself by the time he had completed his first task. True, it had taken up more time than he had anticipated, but he had done it without injuring himself and that had to be worth something. He then turned back to the carton that held the tomato sauce, or so the words on it told him. If he was not mistaken that had to go in next. Or was it supposed to be the meat?

He glanced at the instructions again. Unfortunately that was also the moment his legendary clumsiness decided to kick in. He accidentally kicked the tomato sauce over as he reached for the piece of paper, which was not as far away as he had supposed. Red sauce spilled all over Jo’s handwritten instructions.

‘Oh no!’ he exclaimed. The paper was ruined, the instructions on it rendered useless by the sauce, not to mention that the sauce itself had gone completely to waste as well. Arthur would laugh himself sick when he heard about this.

Jo must have heard him. ‘Everything all right?’ she called.

‘Fine!’ he yelled back in his most optimistic voice. Had Arthur been here he would have known immediately that something indeed was wrong. Fortunately for him Jo didn’t know him that well yet. ‘Just dropped something, is all,’ he added for good measure. ‘I’ll make sure to clean it up.’

‘Oh. Okay.’ She didn’t sound totally convinced. ‘Do you need help?’

‘No, I’ll be fine. Really.’ _Please let her stay there until I’ve found a way to deal with this._

‘If you’re sure?’ Again, it sounded like a question.

‘I am,’ he replied hastily. ‘Sure, I mean.’

Truth was, Merlin was anything but sure. He let his gaze wander over the mess in the kitchen, analysing the situation. One, he had only less than half of the instructions, two, the sauce was not edible anymore and three, this place now looked like someone had bled to death mere minutes ago. Well, at least he still knew how to prepare the pasta shells and with magic at his disposal it would take up hardly any time at all to make Jo’s kitchen look less like a crime scene. No, those things weren’t the problem. The sauce, however, was. He had no recipe, so he didn’t know how to make it, and even if he had, he had just spilled one of his main ingredients all over the place. There was no way he could still make what Jo wanted.

He briefly considered asking for help, but that felt like throwing in the towel to him, admitting defeat. Good heavens, he had won fights against evil witches and magical creatures. He was not going to be beaten by some misfortune in the kitchen. He did have some pride.

So, what option did he have? Looking at Jo’s cupboards and fridge a wide smile suddenly formed on his face. He could do what he always did in situations like this one. Improvise.

The young warlock straightened his back, took a deep breath and accepted the challenge with a wide grin. He was back in his element.

 

***

 

Jo was severely tempted to just take a quick glance into the kitchen she had been banished from. Merlin had sounded a little too optimistic just now, so she was sure something had gone wrong, but she also understood that he didn’t want her to know. So she forced herself to remain on the couch, trying to read a book.

It took her a quarter of an hour to realise that she couldn’t actually remember what she had just read. She was too busy listening to the sounds coming from the kitchen. Ten minutes earlier she had heard the sound of cupboards and fridge being opened and closed again. That had made her frown. She was sure she had taken out everything Merlin could possible need. It had her almost convinced she would need to take a look, but then he had started to sing. People who sang were happy, right? Then surely everything was all right.

 _Get a grip, Jo_ , she told herself, although her mental voice had copied Ros’s tone.

She took up her book again, forcing herself to re-read the last part and let Merlin do what he wanted to do. He was a warlock, she reminded herself. He could deal with it. And even if he couldn’t, his magic probably could.

Still, she kept on wondering what was going on in there and in the end her curiosity won out. She tip-toed across the room and peeked into the kitchen. The sight that met her there was enough to make her jaw drop. Merlin stood, still singing under his breath, stirring in a pan. That was about the only normal thing in all this mess. This magical mess. The kitchen table was being set for dinner, but instead of Merlin setting the table the plates were placing themselves on the table. Another pan was stirring itself and some dirty equipment was cleaning itself in the sink. As she watched some of the vegetables still lying on the table flew over to the self-stirring pan, dropping in it on a command of Merlin’s hand.

And she thought she had seen it all. How stupid that had been. If previously she might have thought that unlocking the door with only a spoken command was impressive, she now recognised that for what it was: a mere trick.

‘Almost done,’ Merlin announced.

‘Really?’ she asked.

The warlock swivelled around, startled, and Jo realised he had been talking to himself rather than to her. ‘Jo!’ he exclaimed.

‘It smells good,’ she commented, which was the truth. She leaned against the door post as if she had every right to be there, which she, come to think of it, had. ‘It just doesn’t smell of pasta,’ she added.

‘Ah.’ His cheeks coloured bright crimson. ‘Ehm, about that…’ He looked like he was thinking very hard. When he had come up with an explanation his entire face lit up in that dazzling smile again. ‘The tomato sauce had gone bad,’ he told her.

Jo frowned. For a man with such a big secret he was an awfully bad liar. She remembered him telling her that he dropped something and now suddenly the tomato sauce had gone bad. You didn’t even have to be a spook to connect the dots. ‘And was that before or after you spilled it?’ she wondered.

 _Bull’s eye_ , she thought as he smiled guiltily.

‘I’ve made you something very special,’ he offered. She thought it might be his way of an apology.

‘I’m sure you did,’ she replied. The delicious smell in the kitchen was proof enough of that. ‘What did you make?’

The smile grew wider now that he realised that she wasn’t going to fly of the handle and he started listing his ingredients, including a lot of spices and herbs Jo would never have put in her pasta, never mind combining them anyway.

‘You just opened the cupboard and added whatever you thought would taste nice, didn’t you?’ she asked, trying to bite back a chuckle.

She was spot on again. ‘I’m sure it’s going to taste amazing,’ he stated.

Now Jo chuckled for real. ‘I’m sure.’ She glanced at the self-stirring pan again and then looked back at Merlin. ‘But if I’ve got food poisoning tomorrow you can call Ros and explain what happened.’

That threat didn’t seem to impress him at all. Instead his smile got even wider. She was surprised that was even possible. ‘Deal,’ he agreed. ‘So, shall we have some dinner?’

She glanced at her watch. About time. It had taken him two hours to complete it all and her stomach was protesting loudly against so much neglect. ‘Let’s have dinner,’ she agreed.


	4. A date for... six?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin and Jo go on a date for operational reasons, but there's a lot going on underneath the surface and in the surveillance van happens more than a simple eavesdropping job.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written for a prompt from someone on Fanfiction.net, who wanted me to write a piece where Merlin and Jo go on a date and everyone tries to listen/look in on them. This is what came out.

 

‘Oh no,’ Merlin said, putting up his hands as if it were some sort of defence walls protecting him from Harry’s request. ‘Absolutely not.’

‘Merlin, be reasonable,’ Harry tried again.

But Merlin was being reasonable as far as he was concerned and there was no way he could do what Harry wanted him to do. He would do a lot for his allies and friends, but he had to draw the line somewhere and Harry had just crossed it. ‘I am,’ he said, stumbling over his own words in his hurry to get them out. ‘Reasonable, I mean. Can’t Ben do it? Or Lucas?’ In short, anyone but him.

‘Ben’s undercover,’ Lucas reminded him. ‘And that FSB-man will certainly recognise me from Moscow.’

‘Malcolm then?’ he tried.

‘Ugh!’ Jo exclaimed. ‘Malcolm’s old enough to be my father, Merlin! No offense, Malcolm.’

‘None taken,’ the elderly man said kindly.

‘Merlin, mate, you’re the only guy I know who would say no to going out with a beautiful lady,’ Gwaine remarked. It was his first time in London and officially he was here to babysit Merlin because Arthur was too busy appeasing a very offended queen Annis who may have gotten the impression, wrongly or truthfully was as of yet undecided, that one of Arthur’s knights, rumoured to go by the name of Gwaine, had called her an unfair cow when she had limited the handing out of mead at the most recent feast held in her castle. Somehow Arthur had deemed it wise to have Gwaine out of Camelot for the duration of her stay. But letting Gwaine loose in London had not been such a good idea either and after two days Merlin was seriously starting to wonder who was babysitting who.

And the trouble just kept piling up. Harry was launching an operation that required two of his officers to go on a date in a nice restaurant. These officers were to put on a good romantic show, but they would be wired all the while so that their microphones could record every word of the conversation taking place at the table next to them, where a lot more than a romantic date would be going on. So far, so good. Merlin even agreed with the necessity of this operation and he had no objections whatsoever against Jo going in as the female officer. It was just the part that said he would be the male officer that he had a problem with.

It wasn’t that he disliked Jo, quite the contrary even. It was just that he was confused  where the two of them were standing, how he himself felt about her, not to mention that he hadn’t got a clue how she felt about him. And yet everyone, including Arthur, seemed to think that the two of them were a couple ever since he had accidentally picked up Jo’s phone after they had fallen asleep in her living room after watching a movie on his second night in London. The whole situation was awkward enough as it was and this operation would only make things more complicated than they already were. And the time to discuss their feelings was hardly going to be in the middle of an operation, with all of Section D, with the unwelcome addition of Gwaine, listening in.

‘Not helping, Gwaine,’ he told the knight, who failed to be anything other than amused, taking a large bite out of the apple he had stolen from some unsuspecting officer’s desk.

‘I wouldn’t mind going out with you, my lady,’ he said, winking at Jo, whose cheeks flushed bright crimson.

Ros gave sir Gwaine a look that spelled it out quite clearly that in that case she even rather had an Al-Qaeda terrorist to accompany Jo on the date than him. Merlin couldn’t find it in himself to blame her for that. Had he been in her shoes, he would have thought the same thing. Gwaine was a lot of things – a loyal friend, a formidable fighter and a dutiful knight of Camelot – he just wasn’t a spy. Unfortunately this meant there was one less candidate to go in with Jo.

‘Absolutely bloody not,’ Ros said out loud for those who had failed to get the message in her eyes.

‘Can’t you go then?’ Merlin tried, in one last attempt to escape this mission. ‘Something like a girl’s night, friends going out for dinner and chatting?’

He knew this wasn’t going to happen before the words had even left his mouth. Ros was a brilliant spook, but she failed spectacularly at any form of female bonding, or bonding in general, and she was about as social as Arthur in the morning. All right, maybe that was a little harsh. Merlin and Ros just didn’t like each other very much, but that didn’t change the fact that Ros was a difficult person to get along with. The warlock even doubted she had any friends outside of work. And of course she could act like a nice social person with dozens of friends, an entire evening of idle chatter would definitely be too much for her.

‘Merlin, we need a _man_ to go in,’ Ros pointed out. ‘Do I look like a man to you?’

‘Oh, I don’t know…’ Lucas started, earning him one of her glares.

‘That’s enough!’ Harry all but bellowed, slamming his fist on the table for good measure. ‘This isn’t a request, Merlin. It’s an order. We need a male officer in there and you’re the only one available that also fits the profile we need. You are going in there tonight and if you and Miss Portman have issues to sort out, I suggest you work them out after the operation. The two of you have eight hours to prepare starting now. Work with Malcolm on your legends. And if either of you lets your personal matters ruin this mission I will make sure that you are both assigned to the paper archive for the rest of your lives. Do I make myself clear?’ For a not so tall man Harry succeeded in producing a lot of volume. The cups still standing on the table rattled with the force of his voice and Merlin automatically sunk as far in his chair as the piece of furniture would permit.

Some part of him was very tempted to say that Harry technically didn’t have any right whatsoever to assign him to anything, but his furious speech had landed the message home that there was a little bit more at stake here than Jo and him having some unresolved “personal matters”. This was an operation, an act, not real. They only had to pretend. How bad could it really be? This didn’t mean he dreaded tonight any less, but he had his priorities sorted again at least.

‘Yes, sir,’ Jo muttered. Her face seemed to have taken on that blush permanently and she avoided meeting anyone’s eyes. Too embarrassed, he guessed.

Well, that made two of them. ‘Yes, Harry,’ he mumbled.

‘Good,’ the head of the section said. ‘Then get at it.’

Jo all but fled from the meeting room and the rest of the team followed her out. Merlin was one of the last ones to get up and Gwaine was still in his chair, with his legs draped casually over its arm rests, chewing on the last remnants of his apple. Merlin would bet he had thoroughly enjoyed the show.

‘Tough luck,’ the knight commented.

‘How so?’ Merlin asked. ‘Harry wasn’t that bad.’ This time.

The mischievous twinkle in Gwaine’s eyes suggested that there was a witty remark coming. And there was. ‘I meant me, mate. It’s you that gets to go out with the prettiest girl around here. Lots better than that old hag.’ Merlin didn’t need to ask who he meant by that. ‘Though in this case I’d be more than happy to stand in for you.’ He swallowed the last piece of apple.

Even though Merlin knew that wasn’t even an option – he wasn’t sure Ros’s nerves, or Harry’s, would survive it – he suddenly felt rage washing over him at the mere thought of anyone else accompanying Jo, especially such a ladies’ man as Gwaine. He had no idea where that feeling was coming from so suddenly, but right now he knew for certain he wanted to be in that restaurant tonight.

So he forced his face into a smile and practically beamed at one of his best friends. ‘Like you said: tough luck,’ he commented.

Why Gwaine roared with laughter as he left the room, remained a mystery.

 

***

 

The surveillance van was dark, hot and cramped, a combination of a few of Ros’s least favourite words. How all the equipment and four people fit in such a small van was a mystery to her, but it was certainly no fun actually being forced to spend any amount of time in here, let alone a couple of hours.

And what was Gwaine even doing here? He wasn’t a spy and he didn’t have any skills worth noticing as far as she had seen, because stealing other people’s apples and drinks didn’t really count in her opinion. But she wouldn’t want him messing around on the Grid either and there was no other place they could send him to, so here he was, in the place where he, hopefully, could cause the least damage. Merlin had quietly mentioned to her that he had caused something of a diplomatic scandal back in Camelot and that Arthur had ordered him away while he tried to fix it. That was more than enough reason for her to keep a close eye on the knight, a very close eye.

 _A loose cannon, that’s what he is_ , she decided. _He’d better be where I can keep him in check myself._ Although she was seriously starting to doubt the wisdom of that decision already. His flirting remarks made her want to dump him in the river Thames and that within twenty minutes’ time. Well, at least there were no apples here.

Malcolm was checking the surveillance cameras for the last time, assisted by Lucas. Gwaine was looking over their shoulders, pretending to understand everything they did and said, with pretending being the operative word. There was a confused look on his face that had also graced Merlin and Arthur’s faces when they had first come to London. He didn’t have the faintest idea what was really going on here.

She shook her head in mild amusement and went about her own chores. ‘Alfa One, report,’ she demanded.

‘Almost there, Control,’ came Merlin’s voice. ‘I’ll be there in half a minute.’

‘Good,’ Ros replied. He was right on time. ‘I’ll let you know when your date arrives.’

‘Copy that.’

That caused a quick smile to break through, but she made sure to wipe it off her face before any of her companions could notice it. She would never admit this to anyone but herself and maybe, maybe mind, Harry or Lucas, but she actually enjoyed working with Merlin. He was quick, devoted and resourceful and fortunately not as naïve as Jo and Ben. He had adapted to twenty-first century London faster than could have been expected of anyone, absorbed new information like a sponge and had yet to mess up an operation. Where Arthur’s venture into spying had luckily been short-lived, Merlin had become a valuable asset. These days Ros sometimes even requested of Harry that he bring the warlock in. The fact that they had to help out in Camelot every now and then in exchange for that assistance, was a small price to pay for Merlin’s help and magic on their operations.

‘Beta Two, respond,’ Ros called.

‘What’s with the codenames?’ Gwaine wondered, leaning casually and far too close for comfort over the arm rest of her chair. ‘Why don’t you just call them by their real names?’

 _Why don’t you just keep your bloody mouth shut?_ She suddenly remembered why she hated having Gwaine here. He just couldn’t stop talking. ‘What part of _shut up_ did you not understand, sir Gwaine?’ she snapped at him, speaking his title with as much mocking as she could muster. She couldn’t imagine a man that was so unlike a knight as this one.

Gwaine was either not impressed or hadn’t taken the hint. ‘But why do you have codenames?’ he insisted.

‘Have you ever seen our paper archive, sir Gwaine?’ Ros inquired sweetly. One way or the other, she was going to get this man to keep silent.

Still he didn’t understand. ‘Can’t say that I have, my lady,’ he replied, still with that stupid grin on his face.

‘Then let me tell you about it.’ The smile was so sickening sweet now that any other than Gwaine would have run for cover without a second thought already, because everyone knew that was the only thing more dangerous than Ros’s low threatening voice. ‘It’s full of unsorted paperwork. Very dusty, too. It really does need a good cleaning and sorting. Well, and with your record being the way it is at the moment, I doubt your king will be very much objected against lending you to us for a month or so to clean it up a bit.’

That finally seemed to sober him up. The smile vanished from his face faster than you could say Camelot, causing Lucas to chuckle behind his hand. His attempts to mask it as coughing fooled no one.

‘Ehm… Control?’ came Jo’s hesitant voice.

‘Present, Beta Two,’ Ros replied briskly, shooting one last warning glance at Gwaine for good measure. ‘Do you have a status update for me?’

‘Approaching from the north,’ Jo told her. ‘Will be reaching destination in approximately two minutes, if those traffic lights ever decide to turn green, that is.’

‘Copy that,’ Ros said.

‘Alfa One in place?’ Jo asked.

Ros checked her watch. ‘He will be by now.’

Malcolm silently pointed out the warlock on the CCTV camera just outside the restaurant. He had taken his place beside the entrance, checking his watch the way any man would do on his first date.

That was the story they had gone with in the end. Tonight Merlin and Jo were Edward Matthews and Anna Moore, who had come into contact via a dating site and who, after months of online chatting and several phone calls had finally agreed to a first date, about which they were understandably very nervous. That was the only script that might work in Ros’s opinion, since those two were so bloody awkward around each other lately. She had no idea what was causing it, but it started to get really annoying by now.

‘Control to Alfa One,’ she said. ‘Beta Two will be reaching destination in about a minute.’

‘Copy that, Control.’

The camera showed Merlin leaning against a column as he checked his watch again. He really was an amazing actor and, when out in the field, one of the most skilled liars she had ever come across. She had to admit, though, that when not out in the field, he couldn’t lie to save his life. But ever since the operation had started he had slipped into the skin of one Edward Matthews, a London business man. Merlin the clumsy warlock had been left on the Grid, along with all the awkward and yet unspecified feelings for one Jo Portman. And thank the heavens for that.

Jo approached the building and looked around, searching for her date, “finding” him fifteen seconds later at the agreed rendezvous point.

‘Hi,’ she greeted, appropriately nervous sounding. ‘You’re Edward, right?’

Merlin smiled his reassuring smile. ‘Yeah, but my friends call me Ed. My mother had an annoying love of old-fashioned names. You’re Anna then?’ The words came out rather quickly, making clear that Ed was just as nervous about this date as Anna.

Jo nodded. ‘That’s right. Uh… shall we go in, Edward?’

Things were as awkward as they needed them to be, or as Ros imagined they were supposed to be. She lacked experience in that particular field. She just didn’t get nervous, least of all on dates.

Merlin’s smile widened. They had a perfect view of that because the camera in Jo’s broche was pointed right at the warlock’s face. ‘I thought I told you to call me Ed,’ he said.

‘No, you said your friends call you Ed,’ Jo disagreed. ‘Not the same thing.’

Merlin, playing the perfect gentleman, hooked his arm through hers and guided her inside. They didn’t have access to a camera in the hallway and the only thing they could see right now was the door leading to the actual restaurant, because that was where the cameras in Jo’s broche and Merlin’s jacket button were pointed at. _What kind of restaurant doesn’t have a sodding security camera in the lobby?_

‘Ah,’ Merlin said. ‘But we’re friends already, right?’

‘Charming, Merlin,’ Gwaine commented. ‘You’ve really learned how to chat up the ladies, eh?’

The cameras showed both of the field officers flushing bright red. Ros knocked Gwaine away from the audio equipment as the knight erupted into fits of roaring laughter. He hadn’t been prepared for that, neither her blow nor the force behind it, and he was sent staggering back, all but crashing into Lucas. He could only just save himself from being squashed by Gwaine by literally throwing himself out of the way against the back door of the van, causing the entire vehicle to sway dangerously in very attention demanding kind of way, the way MI-5 officers tried to avoid at all costs.

‘Paper archive!’ Ros snapped at Gwaine with as stern a gaze as she could manage. ‘And if you interrupt this operation one more time, then so help me God, I will personally make sure you get to experience the many uses of our basement holding cells for an unspecified but surely very extended period of time.’

That made him blink once or twice in confusion, but at least it had shut him up, for which she was grateful. It weren’t just her nerves at risk here, although they were indeed in danger of exploding if that annoying man interrupted her or, worse, flirted with her one more time. No, the real issue here was that Gwaine’s stupid remarks could cause Merlin and Jo to fall out of their roles and attract attention in a way that could blow this entire operation wide open. And that would also blow their chances of ever finding out what the hell the FSB and the CIA were up to and why they were doing whatever it was that they were doing on British soil and behind MI-5’s back. This was their last chance of finding out and she’d be damned if she was letting it get ruined by a man whose sole interest seemed to be in apples, alcoholic drinks and women.

‘Ignore that,’ she told her officers. ‘And get on with it.’

She was relieved to see that both of them were perfectly composed again, proceeding towards the actual restaurant. Thank God Merlin was in there. She still wasn’t one hundred percent sure about Jo’s skills, but Merlin did extremely well. And they needed to do the best they could, because they were about to spy on two of the world’s most feared intelligence services and neither the FSB nor the CIA took kindly to another service spying on them, especially when said service was caught in the act. Lucas could bear witness to the FSB’s fabled hospitality in cases like that and Ros herself had become quite an authority on CIA nastiness. No, Jo and Merlin had better not get caught and it was partly her responsibility that this operation went off without a hitch. And one bloody knight was not going to prevent her from keeping her officers safe.

So she fixed Gwaine with one last warning glance and concentrated on her officers again. _Let’s get this show on the road_.

 

***

 

Jo and Merlin were still on the soup, playing out the tell-me-something-about-yourself part, when another couple came to occupy the table on the other end of the aisle. Merlin had seen their photographs on the Grid and could tell that this was the couple they were trying to eavesdrop on. The woman was from the American CIA. If he hadn’t known that from reading her file, he could tell it by her accent. Her partner was a Russian and he too spoke English with an accent, although he really did his best not to let it show too much.

‘So, you’re from the north of the country?’ Merlin asked.

‘I lived there until I was twelve,’ Jo told him. ‘Then my father got a job in the City and we moved down here. I haven’t really been back there much since then.’

‘Shame,’ Merlin said, eating the last of his soup and then leaning back in his chair. ‘Maybe we could go back together once.’

‘That’s too soon, Merlin,’ Lucas’s voice told him through his earpiece. ‘It’s only your first date. Haven’t you ever been on one before?’

No, he hadn’t. Well, he had spent a few evenings with Freya, but he doubted they counted as dates. He tended to think not anyway. He was new to this whole dating thing. This entire courtship was much less defined and therefore far more complicated than it was in Camelot. Maybe that was why he had such difficulty trying to find out where Jo and he were standing with their relationship, if it even could be called that.

Now he hastened to rectify his error, colouring red in embarrassment. ‘Sometime in the future, I mean. Not now, of course. I mean…’

‘Stop rambling!’ came Ros’s voice. ‘You’re sounding like a bloody idiot.’

Apart from the bloody part that was something Arthur could have said as well. The Section Chief and the king really were alike in more ways than one. Maybe that was why didn’t get along well together. They were too stubborn to admit the other might be right and they both wanted to be in charge. That was bound to go wrong.

‘Sorry,’ he said to both Anna Moore and Ros. ‘I guess I’m just a little nervous.’

Jo gave him an understanding look while Anna put in a nervous giggle. ‘Me too. Maybe we should, I don’t know, just not be nervous. Just be ourselves and see where we end up?’ If Merlin just read right between the lines that was not only the advice for their legends, but also for their real selves. And if that was the case, Merlin agreed wholeheartedly.

And so he nodded. ‘Yeah, that sounds like a plan,’ he agreed. ‘So, while we’re being ourselves, I think I should admit that I really like you.’ He supposed that was true for both Ed and Merlin, so he could safely say it here without arising suspicion.

‘The direct approach, eh?’ commented Gwaine. ‘I like your style, mate.’

That caused them both to blush even as Ros started to shout at the knight. Merlin thought he heard some threats involving the cells, the paper archive and serving tea and could barely keep himself from chuckling out loud, which would have drawn the attention of the unusual couple next to them and Ros had drilled it into their heads all day that that was something they really needed to avoid. She had made it exceptionally clear that they would be in big trouble from both the CIA and the FSB if they were being caught and looking at the Russian man he no longer really doubted that. He looked like the kind of man that would rather have both of them for lunch than make polite conversation with them.

‘I am sorry,’ Merlin told both Anna and Jo. ‘That was a little too direct perhaps.’

Both the persona and the spook smiled back at him. ‘It doesn’t matter,’ they told him. ‘I like that really. And ehm… I like you too. Otherwise why would I be here?’

‘Ugh, do I really have to listen to this romantic nonsense?’ Ros commented. ‘What happened to intelligent conversation?’

 _Now, who was it that wanted a good romantic show?_ This of course he couldn’t tell her, because that was bound to get them some unwanted attention. But he could send her a coded message and that he did. ‘I don’t know. You could still walk out on me,’ Ed told Anna and Merlin told Ros.

He kept marvelling about the complexity of this kind of conversation. He was meant to become another person altogether, but he had never really gotten that idea. How could you simply cease to exist and become another person? So now he simply settled for becoming Ed Matthews except for in his head. He would remain Merlin there. And Ed may control his face, his attitude and his words, but Merlin was still capable of sending messages with his eyes. That was the only part he could and would not conceal. And as long as Ros didn’t find that out, he would be fine.

Lucas laughed and Merlin could swear he could hear Ros’s teeth grinding, but he ignored her. ‘Not that I would want you to,’ Ed said to Anna hastily, taking away the impression he might have given that he wanted her to walk away now. ‘Like I said: I really like you.’

‘Now who is saying that to whom?’ Ros wondered sarcastically, but mildly amused. ‘Could you point your camera at that Russian’s face, please? I think he’s not the man they were going to send originally.’

Merlin shivered, while Ed just casually rearranged his jacket so that the camera in his button was pointed right at the Russian, making conversation with Anna at the same time. ‘So, where were we before I got so presumptuous?’ he asked lightly, smiling at his date.

‘That’s a good visual,’ Malcolm said. ‘I’ll put that picture through face recognition and get back to you as soon as I can.’

‘No need for that.’ Lucas’s voice sounded tense, frightened even. ‘That’s Alexander.’

‘Alexander who?’ Ros urged.

‘I don’t know,’ Lucas confessed. ‘There wasn’t any need for surnames where I met him, Ros. He was one of my interrogators in Russia and he was bloody good at it too.’

And Merlin almost choked on his wine. Lucas didn’t really talk much about his involuntary eight year stay in Russian prison, but Merlin had heard bits and pieces, enough to know that the senior officer had had a very hard time there. And here he was, sitting less than three meters away from a man who tortured people for a living and who was, to quote Lucas, bloody good at it too. If he hadn’t been convinced of the need to make this show convincing before, he definitely was now.

So he forced himself to ignore the couple on the other table. It wasn’t his job to listen to them or study their faces. The sensitive wires Malcolm had provided them with would take care of the former, the cameras in the button and the broche of the latter.

Ed focused his attention back to Anna, still with that easy smile on his face. Anna answered it with one of her own, even as Jo exchanged a worried glance with Merlin.

‘Well, I thought we were discussing the plan to visit my home town before you decided that might not be appropriate to discuss on a first date,’ Anna replied playfully. Their empty bowls had now been replaced with the main course and Merlin used that excuse not to meet her gaze, for fear he would start blushing again.

This of course didn’t fool the team in the surveillance van. Gwaine laughed, even though he had probably just been promised to spend next week either in the paper archive or the cells, depending on how badly he had gotten on the Section Chief’s nerves.

Ros paid him no mind now. ‘Stop blushing like a naughty school boy, Merlin,’ she told him. ‘You’re both adults and you haven’t suggested anything inappropriate. She’s bloody flirting with you. Tease her, flirt back.’

That was one thing he wasn’t good at and Ros should have known it. The only thing her speech caused was a heavy blush on his cheeks. He supposed he was lucky the spies sitting at the other table didn’t think Ed and Anna were worth paying attention to, or they might have noticed something was off.

‘You’re hopeless!’ Ros exclaimed. ‘Lucas, teach him how it’s done.’

Merlin knew that if those two weren’t so easily recognised by the services they were currently spying on, they would have gone in themselves, doing a much better job of it than Merlin and Jo would ever be capable of. They had a way of understanding each other, even liking each other. Merlin often wondered if they weren’t together, but he knew better than to ask about it. Whether it was true or not, he knew Lucas would never answer the question and Ros would bite his head off if he asked a question about her personal life in general, never mind something _that_ personal. And he did value his life, very much in fact.

‘Sorry about this, Merlin,’ Lucas said. He still sounded tense, but also mildly amused now.

 _Don’t be_ , he thought. He understood the need for it, even if he didn’t like it. He knew he might mess up without help and he had no ambition whatsoever to get a similar prison experience as the other man. Lucas was his lifeline here and he was determined to use it. Harry had been right. Personal matters were for another moment. For now getting out alive and with the information had to be a priority.

‘Ready?’ Lucas asked and Merlin gave him a barely audible ‘hm’ in reply. ‘Okay, then repeat after me…’

The next few hours were extremely tiring. With Lucas coaching Merlin and Ros guiding Jo the evening was altogether noisy and far more flirting and insinuating than both of them were actually comfortable with. That resulted in frequent blushes from both of them and the use of all the self-control he could muster. He was glad he had so much of it. Without its help he might have done a runner after mere minutes.

He was glad when the CIA woman and the FSB man were finally leaving, because that meant they could also go. Someone else would be following the suspects to see what they were up to now, but they had the heavenly prospect of going home and getting back to being themselves to look forward to. And thank goodness for that.

Merlin could feel a headache coming on as he ordered the check, but he forced his face to maintain that pleasant smile.

‘It was really nice meeting you,’ Ed told Anna. ‘We should do this again.’

She nodded enthusiastically. ‘Sure. You know, why don’t we go and grab a decent cup of coffee somewhere and talk some more? Really talk, I mean.’

Merlin could tell that wasn’t Jo’s persona saying that, but rather Jo herself and he smiled. He didn’t know what he had been hoping for really, but he definitely liked the sound of this. ‘Sure,’ he agreed. ‘Do you know a nice place?’

‘There’s a nice shop three blocks away, I think,’ Jo replied. ‘I passed it on my way here. It looked rather cosy. We could go there.’

‘Count me in,’ he told her. It would be a blessing to leave Ed and Anna behind in this restaurant and go somewhere Merlin and Jo could do some real talking together. It was about time that they did.

‘Hang on,’ Ros suddenly interrupted. ‘You don’t really mean that, do you?’ Her tone was slightly alarmed.

Merlin risked a quick glance around him, but they were back in the lobby by now and no one was watching and so he replied. ‘Of course we mean that,’ he said. ‘You didn’t need us to do anything else, did you?’

‘And what on earth am I supposed to do with your useless tag-along?’ Ros demanded. Her tone betrayed that she didn’t really like Gwaine and for that Merlin couldn’t really blame her. After all, he had been in danger of jeopardising the operation more than one time and if there was one sin Ros thought was unforgivable, it was that one. And Merlin had to agree. If Gwaine’s comments had indeed made them blow the operation, he might be on his way to a prison instead of a nice shop by now. He promised himself to keep Gwaine away from sensitive operations in future.

‘Didn’t you promise him a visit to the paper archive?’ he asked innocently. ‘Or else you can just drop him off at any pub you want. I’m sure he’ll enjoy himself there.’ No doubt about that. ‘And we’re going off comms now, boss. We’ll see you at work tomorrow.’

He knew he was going to pay for this tomorrow (in the paper archive most likely), but right now he couldn’t bring himself to care. So before she could protest he removed his earpiece and turned it off, repeating the same process with his microphone and camera. Then he offered Jo his arm and smiled at her. ‘Shall we go?’

‘Certainly,’ she agreed. She hooked her arm through his and together they left the restaurant, making their way to the shop, leaving the important matters of national security behind.


	5. Cinderella, Prince Charming and the Evil Section Chief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morgana tries to crash a royal wedding, but finds her way blocked.

Ros glanced across the temporary headquarters of Section D, MI-5, today’s official security service of the kingdom of Camelot. She repeated those words in her head, tasting the sound of them, but it just didn’t ring true, wrong in some way. No, it was closer to absurd, she decided, but Harry had insisted. And when Harry insisted, not all the arguing in the world was going to change his mind.

This affair had started with the latest operation Merlin and Arthur had assisted on. At the end of it Arthur, blushing like a school boy, had announced that he was about to marry his true love Guinevere and they were all invited to attend. There had been a catch however. They weren’t going to Camelot as guests. They were going as the official security because Arthur didn’t trust his guards with such a sensitive matter.

The king of Camelot had explained to them that Morgana, who Ros always thought hated Camelot in general, hated the thought of her former maidservant on the throne even more, which would make it a logical thought that she would try and disrupt the ceremonies. Unfortunately that sounded like something the witch would do. Harry had argued that it would be bad for Britain as well as Camelot if Morgana were to take the throne and Ros hadn’t been able to come up with one reason why it wouldn’t be.

And so the biggest operation Ros had ever worked on had gotten the green light. Malcolm had permanently moved in here since then, claiming one of the unused storage areas for Section D. He had been accompanied by the largest collection of batteries she had ever laid eyes on. Since there was no electricity in Camelot, those things were an absolute necessity to keep all their electronic wizardry up and running. Unfortunately they were also a very expensive necessity. The budget people were rumoured to have been transported to the nearest hospital with a heart attack when they saw the cost of it all.

Apparently the costs were even high enough for the Home Secretary to get involved and he had summoned Harry and Ros to the carpet to explain themselves. That had turned out to be one of the most amusing things Ros had seen in a long time. Nicholas Blake, who was as of yet blissfully unaware of the existence of the portal to Camelot, had no idea that he was being led around by the nose by his security chief, who presented him with an interesting mix of truths, lies and half-truths. By the end of the conversation Blake was under the impression that the batteries were needed because MI-5 was launching an operation in an area where they didn’t have easy access to electricity, which was true. Harry had convinced him that they were just doing their jobs to protect innocent lives from evil terrorists. He just may have forgotten to mention that those innocent lives weren’t British and that the word terrorist had a slightly different meaning where they were going. But that was need-to-know-information and Nicholas Blake didn’t need to know.

So now the entire team, minus Connie who kept an eye on things in London, had been moved into the beautiful castle, although the rooms they had been assigned were dusty rather than beautiful. But Merlin’s magic, performed safely away from prying eyes of course, had taken care of the dusty part and Section D, but Malcolm mainly, had made sure that these rooms now looked like a second Grid, with the buzz of working machines and the calls for new batteries all over the place.

They had been given official Camelot guards to secure the doors, but the poor fellows had almost fainted at the sight of so many unknown objects. Arthur had insisted on their presence around the clock, although Merlin had quietly muttered that uselessness was about the only thing they excelled in. After two days of being stationed here Ros had to agree. The guards were positively dim, apparently incapable of running even the simplest of errands or even keeping out unwelcome visitors. She suddenly understood why Arthur had deemed it necessary for Section D to come and help out. His own security could clearly not be relied upon.

‘Everything’s ready, boss.’ Lucas walked over to her desk, his arms filled with an interesting mix of paper and parchment. ‘I’d offer you coffee…’

‘But they don’t have it here,’ she finished. ‘What’s that?’

‘Transcripts of the conversations taking place in the kitchens, laundry room, council chamber and stables,’ Lucas announced, dropping a pile on her desk with every room he mentioned, causing her eyes to widen at the sight of them. ‘And the official programme for today’s festivities. And before you ask, there are no changes.’

The relief was probably written all over her face. In the last few days Arthur had kept rearranging the schedule, which meant that Section D had to change their plans as well every time Arthur changed his mind again. In the end Ros had been ready to bang his head against the wall if he as much as thought about doing it again. Bloody politicians.

‘Anything of use in there?’ she asked, beckoning at the transcripts. The palace was practically infested with bugs now. These little wonders of technology, as Malcolm called them, had helped them solve a case of theft, fraud and adultery, but had given them nothing that helped them in securing the safety and Ros seriously doubted that would change now.

‘Unless you count the stable boy doing it with the cook’s niece?’ Lucas offered with a charming smile.

She fixed him with her sternest gaze and he at least had the good sense to wipe it off his face, replacing it with an expression that wouldn’t have been out of place at the funeral of a close relative.

‘Right, not funny,’ he told himself. ‘I’ll go bring these to Harry in his broom cupboard then.’ He was gone before she could comment.

 _Oh, for heaven’s sake, Lucas!_ Harry had been given a small room of his own to function as his office, although it was indeed not much bigger than the broom cupboard Lucas had just compared it with. There was just the small exception that this cupboard, correction, office had a small window.

She looked one last time at the surveillance reports she had been studying and, deciding there was absolutely nothing of interest in them, then got up to make her rounds. ‘Malcolm, anything on CCTV?’

The palace was of course not only audio-bugged. There had also been a considerable amount of CCTV cameras installed by Malcolm, who monitored them carefully. If anything suspicious happened, he would know it immediately.

Not that anything even remotely interesting had happened so far and now was no exception. ‘Nothing unusual yet,’ the elderly technician reported. ‘Although Guinevere really looks lovely.’

Ros’s first instinct was to make a snappy remark along the lines of how they were here to work, not to study the sodding local fashion, but she bit it back, choosing not to remark on it. Instead she demanded of Jo if all the guards were in their proper places and if her tone was a little harsher than usual, that was purely a coincidence.

‘Yes, Ros,’ the junior officer replied dutifully. ‘I checked them myself.’

‘And Merlin?’

‘In the hall at the front row, ready to act as soon as you give the word.’

‘Or before I give the word,’ Ros commented dryly. The warlock was known for his impulsive behaviour after all.

At that moment Harry came walking out of his cupboard. ‘Anything yet, Ros?’ he inquired.

Since she had only just established that there wasn’t, she could answer that with a truthful: ‘Nothing. Unless of course you count that stable boy doing it with the cook’s niece,’ she added with a smirk when she saw Lucas trailing after Harry. He responded with a wide grin and a twinkle in his eyes.

Harry just gave her a stern look. ‘Rosalind…’

She was saved from a lecture about not taking this operation seriously enough by Malcolm. ‘Ros!’ Judging by the tone in his voice something was very wrong.

It took her about three steps to march over to his desk and take a look at the screen of his computer. Unlike usually she didn’t need to ask him what the matter was this time. In front of the CCTV cameras they had installed near the dungeons walked a woman with black hair and a pale face, clad in a black dress that was dirty at the hems.

‘Morgana,’ she hissed through clenched teeth. Arthur had been right to suspect that his half-sister was up to something.

Morgana strutted through the corridors as if she owned the place, which of course she had deluded herself into thinking she did. The guards that had been posted in said corridors were nowhere to be seen and Ros dreaded to think what might have happened to them. Or maybe they had just run at the first sight of Camelot’s archenemy. They were so useless that she wouldn’t put it past them.

‘Where’s the nearest squad of guards?’ she demanded of Jo.

The younger officer’s smile was as apologetic as they came. ‘Throne room, Ros.’

The other side of the bloody castle. ‘Shit!’ she cursed, not quite under her breath. ‘Now, what the hell are you waiting for, Jo? For Morgana to walk in and kindly demand the crown? Alert them! Malcolm, if you let her out of your sight for only a second, I’ll personally make sure you spend the rest of your career down in the paper archive.’ Harry tutted dismissively at the threat, but she ignored him. She had other and better things to do. ‘Lucas, with me.’

‘Sure,’ he said, still perfectly relaxed. ‘What are we going to do?’

‘Try not to sound too enthusiastic about it,’ she chastised him. ‘We’re going to talk to her.’ At least long enough for the cavalry to get to them.

Harry started sputtering his protests, but Ros ignored him once again. She snatched two of Malcolm’s “clever devices” off the nearest desk and handed one of them to Lucas. ‘We’ll be in touch.’ She checked to see if her gun was still there. If she was going to stop an evil witch from breaking and entering she was not going to do so unarmed. ‘You armed?’ she demanded of Lucas.

He showed her his gun like a school boy would show his parents his latest perfect report. The idiot. ‘Yep.’

‘Then let’s go.’

They started towards the door, but Harry’s voice stopped them before they could get out. ‘Ros?’

‘Yeah?’ She had a feeling she knew what was coming.

And indeed she did. ‘No heroics, do you hear me? _Both_ of you.’

She gave her standard clipped ‘Yeah’ and Lucas replied with a ‘Yes, Harry’ that sounded even less sincere than her own response. Harry might think differently, but in both their opinion heroics were just another part of the job description. So they left the makeshift Grid, off to meet the next crisis.

 

***

 

The thought of going down to the dungeons gave Lucas chills and a desperate urge to run in the opposite direction, but he’d be damned if he showed any of his unease to Ros. She already seemed to think his stay in Russian prison still affected him more than was acceptable and he was not going to give her any further confirmation, no matter how true her assessment was. So he kept a blank face in place and walked with long strides next to her.

‘Do you think you can handle her?’ he asked. He had seen magic being used a couple of times now and he knew that when it really came down to it they didn’t stand much more chance than those guards that had been in Morgana’s way only minutes ago. True, their guns could wound and possibly even kill her, but they did need a chance to fire them at her first. And Morgana didn’t strike him as the type to give them even a second to prepare themselves.

‘No,’ Ros replied immediately. ‘But that’s what I have you for. She can’t focus on both of us the whole time.’

There was one fatal flaw in that plan, because Morgana didn’t need to take them down one by one. Lucas had seen Merlin throw back a complete group of bandits once with only a single spell and Morgana was almost just as powerful.

But he chose not to point this fact out to Ros. The last thing he needed to do now was to undermine their confidence any further. They had little enough as it was, he at least. Ros still gave the impression she was firmly in control of everything. So he forced himself to ignore the bad odds, he had had worse after all, and used his photographic memory to guide them to several shortcuts to where Morgana was. Malcolm kept them updated on her whereabouts and they all but ran to cut her off before she could get close to the throne room, which fortunately was a long way from the dungeons, making Lucas inwardly cheer in relief. He was ill at ease enough as it was. He really didn’t need matters complicated any further.

Morgana walked about as quickly as they did, but, unlike them, she apparently didn’t see the need for shortcuts or secrecy. According to Malcolm she walked right in the very middle of the hallways, casually flinging every guard she encountered out of the way. If Ros’s expression was anything to go by, she was positively livid by now. He thought that was because she cared about those guards. Not because she liked them personally (anything but, in fact), but because she believed they were her responsibility now. And no one in their senses hurt someone Ros believed herself to be responsible for, not when there was every chance of her getting her hands on them. Lucas supposed that was telling them something about Morgana’s state of mind.

They decided to block her path in the corridor that had a window view of the courtyard in the end. That was the quickest route to the throne room and according to Malcolm Morgana was walking straight at them.

He checked for his gun, feeling slightly more secure now that he had a weapon ready in hand. From the corner of his eye he saw Ros do the exact same thing.

‘Ready?’ he asked. Her face seemed to have frozen into that icy expression permanently and being so taciturn was quite unlike Ros.

She glared at him by way of a reply, causing him to chuckle.

‘Yes, you’re ready,’ he answered his own question.

‘Oh, for crying out loud, Lucas!’ she hissed angrily. ‘Try to act your bloody age!’

He was thinking of an annoying reply that would have most certainly gained him another glare, but stopped dead when the loud clicking of heels announced the arrival of Camelot’s royal wedding crasher. She came around the corner like a force of nature, determined, deadly and with no intention of letting mere human beings stop her. She radiated danger with every cell of her body. Lucas’s first instinct would have been to do a runner, preferably in the opposite direction, but he was a spook and they didn’t run away. Not in the job description, as Ros would say.

Morgana spotted them immediately and skidded to a stop. ‘What are you doing here?’ she demanded. She may have been born as Uther’s bastard daughter, but she spoke with all the authority of royalty, her question a threat in and out of itself. It was just a shame that her commands didn’t mean anything to them.

And besides, the question was so stupid that neither of them bothered with an answer. ‘Hello, Morgana,’ Lucas said pleasantly.

Those clear green eyes now settled on him and he felt a shiver going down his spine. Those eyes, they were cold, yet he could also feel, more than he could see, the madness that lurked behind the ice. He had seen it before, in Russia, where some prisoners gave up all the hope of ever getting out again, like he had almost done, but others desperately clung to every last straw of hope that someone, _anyone_ would come and get them out of that living nightmare. They kept convincing themselves that this person would come soon, no matter how much proof there was to the contrary. That foolish belief shone in Morgana Pendragon’s eyes as well. No matter how many times her plans had failed and would continue to fail, she would never ever give up the belief that one day she would sit on the throne of Camelot, where she thought she belonged, another delusion of hers.

As he was appraising her, she was also measuring him. Lucas could see that she didn’t think much of him, or Ros for that matter. He tried to suppress the thought that they most likely weren’t that much of a challenge for her. But then, they didn’t need to defeat her. They only needed to keep her here long enough for their back-up to arrive, although he had to admit he didn’t exactly have high hopes about that back-up. He had been in Camelot for only two days and it had taken him far less than that to learn that the guards here were as useless as they came.

‘How did you know I was here?’ Morgana demanded. She tried to sound cold and unyielding, but it would seem that their knowledge of her exact whereabouts, and the fact that they clearly had been waiting for her, had made her nervous at the very least.

Ros’s smile had all the characteristics of a hunter who had her prey cornered. She clearly had no fear of Morgana’s powers at all and Lucas doubted she ever would. Well, not as long as she had a gun in her hand, at least. ‘A piece of advice, Morgana,’ the section Chief said sweetly. ‘Next time you try to sneak in, try not to walk in front of our security cameras. That kind of gives it away.’

Morgana had of course never heard about security cameras before in her life, so the mention of them only made her even more suspicious and uneasy. She held out a hand towards them. ‘Let me pass! I command you to let me through!’ she ordered. You didn’t have to be a spook to know that she was very tense by now.

‘I’m afraid your commands are rather useless here,’ Lucas told her, distracting the attention away from Ros. He didn’t like the way that woman was looking at his colleague, at all. ‘And you should go now.’ His hands grabbed his weapon a little tighter, because he knew the direction this conversation was heading.

And he was right, of course. Morgana all but literally threw her hand forward and Ros was flung back. She flew halfway through the corridor before landing hard on her back, but not as much as an ‘Ow!’ crossed her lips. Instead she gave Morgana the look that told the witch she had just been promoted to the number one on her hit list. But she didn’t get up directly, so Lucas suspected she had been hurt worse than she let on.

Lucas’s shoulder was protesting too. He had thrown himself out of the way of Morgana’s spell, not really paying attention to where he was going, resulting in his right shoulder acquainting itself with the hard stone wall of the castle. But at least Morgana’s spell had missed him and that had to count for something.

‘Ros!’ Harry’s panicked voice started to shout in both their earpieces and Lucas realised only a second too late that there was a camera pointed directly at them. The team could see everything that happened here. ‘Ros, are you all right?’

‘I’m fine, Harry,’ Ros snapped, annoyed by his fussing. To prove that point she tried to get up, without much success.

Morgana eyes her suspiciously. ‘Who are you talking to?’ she demanded, sounding perfectly uncomfortable. She had never heard about microphones and earpieces either, so she had no idea whatsoever what was going on here.

Ros did an excellent job of ignoring her. ‘Where the hell is that cavalry, Harry?’ she barked into the microphone carefully hidden away in her not so very medieval jacket. But then Ros could never be bothered to dress like the locals.

That confused Morgana only more. The look on her face told Lucas she thought Ros had lost her mind as a result of the impact of the blow.

Even though Lucas really wanted to do nothing more than to walk over to Ros and personally make sure that she was indeed fine (she had yet to get up from the floor), he knew she would probably kill him herself for blowing their chances. As it was, Morgana seemed to have forgotten he was there as well and so he let himself disappear in the shadows of a shallow niche he was standing in. Morgana didn’t seem to notice at all.

‘Two minutes,’ Harry reported in their earpieces. ‘Merlin’s with them. Just hold it a little longer.’ Oh, Harry definitely didn’t like the thought of two of his officers out on a limb and in possible mortal danger. _Wouldn’t be the first time though, would it, Harry?_ Lucas thought bitterly. He couldn’t escape the feeling that if Harry had fussed so much about him he would not have spent eight miserable years in that Russian hellhole.

‘That’s too bloody long!’ Ros spat in her microphone. The way she avoided to even as much as glance in his direction told Lucas that she was trying to distract Morgana so that he had a chance to do something, _anything_ to get them out of this situation alive and as unscathed as possible.

His hands tightened around the gun. He could do it. He could shoot her and put an end to her attacks that had put so many lives at risk already. Good heavens, people, _innocent_ people, _had_ died at her hands, because she had been planning to overthrow the kingdom. So why was he still hesitating?

‘Take the shot, Lucas,’ Harry’s voice said in his ear. ‘That’s an order.’

 _I didn’t join the Service so that I could shoot people to bits._ And the way Morgana looked, desperate as well as demanding, gave her something very lonely. In some way he understood how she felt. Could he really do this?

‘Well, you’d better do it now!’ Ros fumed in the microphone, but Lucas knew that the words were meant for him.

 _Get a grip, North_ , he told himself. This woman had killed before and would probably kill them too if they didn’t act soon. He had the advantage now. Hesitating would not only be stupid, but later on it would also be looked on as a weakness, proof that he had not recovered from his imprisonment in Russia. People would say that he was compromised, unable to go out in the field any longer.

That decided it for him. He pointed the gun at Morgana, made sure her attention was still focused on Ros, who was rapping orders at Harry and the team, and pulled the trigger without thinking about it any further.

It was a bad shot. Morgana turned at the last possible moment, seeming to have suddenly realised that Ros was not alone and the bullet grazed her side. It still made an impact though. The witch staggered back, grabbing the wound and crying out in pain. Her eyes, the cold in them gone now, were full of panic and the unspoken question of why he had done this to her.

He couldn’t meet her eyes, not really, and instead looked at her hands, that had started to colour red where she had used them to try and stop the blood from escaping her body. He wasn’t a doctor, but even he could see that, even though the wound would not kill her, she would need medical attention.

She shouted something in a language he couldn’t understand, but it sounded like a spell and Lucas half expected to have the wind knocked out of him. But the spell wasn’t aimed at him, or Ros. A whirlwind started in the corridor and Morgana was right in the very middle of it. Lucas could see her eyes flashing gold, but then the winds took her away and the storm ended as soon as it had begun, leaving only an unspecified black object on the floor where she had been.

But that wasn’t important. Ros was still injured. It took him hardly three big steps to march over to her side. ‘Are you all right?’ he asked urgently. She was still lying on the floor and her expression betrayed that she was in pain, no matter how she tried to mask it.

‘I’m fine, Lucas!’ she snapped, her tone suggesting that not Malcolm but he would be assigned to the paper archive for at least the next decade for fussing about her health. ‘What’s that?’ The Section Chief pointed at the object Morgana had left.

Lucas walked over and lifted it off the ground, his face splitting into a wide grin as he recognised it for what it was. ‘Looks like Cinderella dropped her slipper,’ he told the boss.

Ros grimaced and with some help of the windowsill got to her feet again. She had difficulty walking, but by now he knew better than to comment on that, or the fact that she should really go and see Gaius as soon as possible. He did value his life and so he kept his silence as she made her way to him.

‘Let’s get that away,’ she proposed. ‘Or did you want to visit every maiden in the kingdom to see if it fits?’

He offered her another grin, whilst at the same time slipping an arm around her waist, allowing her to lean on him. ‘Just imagine Arthur’s face when we propose that’s the way we’ll be using to find her.’

Ros was clearly deciding if she should glare at him for helping her walk or laugh at his joke. In the end her amusement won out and she smirked. ‘Did you want a nice white steed to go with that?’

The temptation to respond with yet another quip was too great to resist. ‘Does that mean I get to be Prince Charming?’

She nudged him, not quite so softly, as she pulled a leaf out of Arthur’s book. ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ she told him.


	6. Let's hunt a... king?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's more than deer that's targeted at the latest hunt.

_This is a bad idea._

Ros had known it from the moment she had accepted the assignment of an undercover operation in Camelot. Arthur had some royalty visiting the castle in order to get a trade agreement signed. One of those royal guests, an ugly man by the name of King Alined, however was more than a little reluctant to sign this agreement. According to Merlin this king had tried to disrupt peace talks several years ago as well and unfortunately there was nothing to suggest that he wouldn’t try and do it again. This required that he and his company would need to be carefully monitored and, if necessary, persuaded to comply with Arthur’s wishes.

And that was of course where Section D came in. Malcolm had taken command of an empty storage area as a control room and Ros, Lucas and Jo had gone undercover to find out what on earth Alined was up to. Jo had joined the serving staff of Camelot and was under specific orders to get close, as close as she could get, to Alined’s manservant Bill. Lucas and Ros had become a visiting noble couple who were secretly displeased with the way Arthur ran the kingdom. As Lord Gareth and Lady Elen it was their job to butter up to Alined. They needed to gain his trust, get the information and then betray him.

So far, so good. Ros excelled in this game and the same was true for Lucas. They had done it countless times before and to far more intelligent people than king Alined, who had started to spill the beans about his plans after only two days in their company. Ros honestly failed to see why Gaius had called him smart. The man was an idiot if ever she saw one. A cunning idiot admittedly, but an idiot nonetheless.

So yes, it was unfortunate that she now was forced to wear dresses that had caused more than one almost-tripped-over-the-bloody-hem-experience and she had definitely needed to cut back on her use of certain words (bloody and sodding being on the very top of that list), but those things she could handle. She had done it before after all.

The fact that she was now forced to participate in a hunt was another matter entirely. That was something she had never done before in her life. Oh, give her a gun and she’d hit the target every time. But a gun was out of the question for the obvious reasons and no one had ever taught Ros Myers how to handle a crossbow. And that presented them with a minor problem since Lady Elen had boasted not that long ago that her skill with one was unequalled in the Five Kingdoms.

‘Ready?’ Lucas asked. Her colleague, so unlike her, had adjusted to this time and place as if he belonged here. Good grief, had she not known better, she herself would have taken him for a medieval nobleman. He had always been something of a mix between a gentleman and a noble knight and while that attitude was out of fashion in the twenty-first century, in this place it made him fit right in. But then, he also had the advantage of not having to wear far too long skirts.

Ros took a deep breath and hid a knife underneath the skirt for good measure. ‘What do you think?’ she snapped at him.

For Lucas it was all too easy. He had been permitted to attend the trainings with Arthur’s knights to get some last minute practise, whereas Ros, being a woman, had been forced to pretend to know how to embroider along with the other ladies. Bloody Camelot with its restricting rules.

Lucas threw in his lopsided grin. ‘Yes, you’re ready,’ he answered his own question, ignoring her iciest death glare with practised ease.

‘Could you for heaven’s sake just act your bloody age?’ she hissed at him. She wasn’t used to not excelling at anything. To be quite honest, the knowledge that she was in all likeliness going to fail epically today stung. Oh, king Alined and Arthur would probably only laugh a little and Lucas valued his life and career too much to as much as think about chuckling. And her failing at hunting would not blow their covers either. No, this was just her own perfectionism rearing its ugly head and it made her words sound snappy and angry.

Lucas hooked his arm through hers and gave her an encouraging smile. ‘We might not even see any game, Ros,’ he tried to reassure her.

‘Yeah, and Harry absolutely loves politicians,’ she shot back sarcastically. ‘These woods are practically infested with animals.’ Her chances of not having to shoot at something were all but non-existent. She decided to steer the conversation away from her lack of hunting skills. ‘You focus on getting Alined to loosen his bloody tongue,’ she ordered. ‘That bastard is up to something and I want to know all the details by the end of today.’

He gave a mocking salute with his free hand. ‘Yes, sir.’

Ros nudged him in the ribs. ‘And one word about this to anyone and…’

‘I’ll be doomed to spend the rest of my career either serving tea, sorting through the paper archive or admiring the inside of one of our basement holding cells,’ Lucas finished. ‘I know.’

The Section Chief continued as if she hadn’t heard him at all. ‘And I’ll personally arrange a return trip to Russia for you,’ she threatened.

That got him serious again, so Ros ignored the accusing look he shot her in the process. She really didn’t have time for bloody sentimentality right now and her colleagues were taking this operation far too lightly for her liking. Yesterday she had already caught Merlin and Jo in a rather compromising situation and now Lucas was joking as if nothing depended on their work at all. Ros herself was no great fan of operations in Camelot, London being her operating ground of choice, but sometimes needs must. That however was no excuse to perform anything less than perfect. She was a perfectionist after all.

The look in Lucas’s eyes had turned rather cold after her remark and the teasing smile that was still on his lips looked altogether forced. ‘Shall we go then?’

Ros gave a small nod in confirmation. ‘Let’s go,’ she agreed. Time to face her personal nightmare.

 

***

 

Merlin hated hunting. He could not remember when he had not done so, so it was probably safe to assume he had never liked it at all. He always felt terribly sorry for the animals that were only killed for other people’s amusement, but that wasn’t his main concern today. Today he had the additional burden of looking after king Alined as well.

And that man was up to something. Jo had told him as much. Yesterday she had come to him reporting that Bill had found books of sorcery in his wardrobe. That report had been disturbed by other servants walking in on them, so they’d had to compromise by pretending to be making out in the corner in which they had been found.

But it had not been servants that had found them like that. It had been Ros Myers walking in on them and flying completely off the handle at the sight of them. And the Section Chief did not shout. The Section Chief had spoken to them in a low voice, threatening the pair of them with dire consequences if they as much as thought about doing it again. Merlin, knowing her quite well by now, had not doubted for a second that she would make good on that.

And, in hindsight, he even understood Ros’s anger. Jo was supposed to pretend she was madly in love with Bill. To be found in the arms of another man would blow that strategy right out of the water. Of course he had not thought about that back then, and apparently, neither had Jo, but at least the information had been conveyed and they had not been caught by any other than Ros.

If only their troubles had been over after that. But this was Camelot and Merlin knew by now that things were never that simple. If his experience was anything to go by it had to be pretty bad first before it could get better. Knowing his luck they would only be able to stop Alined’s evil, magic-involving scheme when he already had Arthur at the point of his sword.

And today was a hunt, which made it even worse. There were lots of weapons and lots of people: the ideal recipe for chaos. If anyone were to shoot Arthur, they could do so without being detected. An arrow could come from anywhere and no one would be able to tell who had been the one to fire it afterwards. This was going to be hell.

Fortunately he wasn’t alone today. Lucas and Ros marched from the castle into the courtyard to join the hunting party. Or well, Ros marched. Lucas seemed perfectly relaxed. It was the Section Chief that approached this day as if it was all-out war. At least she was taking this seriously. Maybe Lucas did too, but one couldn’t tell from his behaviour. Merlin had known both of them for a while now, but the times he had seen the Senior Case Officer stressed could be counted on the fingers of one hand.

‘Boy, bring my horse!’ Ros shouted at him in a perfect imitation of Arthur’s most arrogant way of speaking.

Merlin hastened to obey. He figured Ros had some piece of information to relay or else she would not have bothered calling him at all. So he took her horse and brought it to her.

‘Do you need my assistance getting up, my lady?’ he asked politely, trying not to smirk. Ros was not a good rider. Steering any kind of means of transport seemed to be an issue with her. He had once sat in a car which she drove and came out sick, throwing up at the side of the road. Ros drove like the devil.

Her riding skills on a horse weren’t much better. The Section Chief disliked horses and horses disliked Ros. No doubt they thought her impatient and demanding. Ros’s dislike might stem from the fact that she could not threaten her mount into doing her bidding.

She gave him a death glare. ‘You’d better stay close to Red Riding Hood,’ she told him in a hushed voice. ‘Otherwise the Big Bad Wolf might blow him full of bloody magical arrow holes.’ She smirked, as did Merlin. This operation’s codenames had come from a fairy tale from their time. Red Riding Hood of course was Arthur, named for his red cloak, and Alined was the Big Bad Wolf, because he was the bad guy this time.

‘Any new information?’ he asked.

‘The action’s definitely today,’ Lucas put in. He had come closer without the warlock noticing and he almost jumped at the sound. ‘The Wolf has been dropping hints left, right and centre, trying to pass them off as subtle.’

‘About as subtle as a bloody bomb in a square full of people,’ Ros commented dryly. ‘We think he has some enchanted arrow and Bill’s information seems to confirm that. Jo just heard he found a book on enchanted weapons lying on his desk.’

‘On his desk?’ Merlin asked incredulously. Surely even Alined could not be that stupid?

‘Well, it wasn’t pinned on his sodding door for all to see,’ Ros snapped impatiently, irritated by his question. ‘You just make sure he doesn’t hit Red Riding Hood and you’ll leave the rest to us.’

The tone made him suddenly fear for Alined’s health. He sure didn’t want to be in the man’s shoes today. ‘You can’t kill him!’ he hissed at the Section Chief. ‘We need him to sign that agreement.’ And he had a feeling Ros was losing sight of that. She always struck him as the type that contained the crisis first and then started to wonder about the consequences.

Lucas’s smile was positively creepy, even when he was still perfectly relaxed. ‘Don’t worry, Merlin,’ he told the warlock. ‘I’ll keep an eye on her.’

Ros glared at him and then got up on the horse. ‘Mess this up and I’ll make that time in the paper archive look like a walk in the park to you,’ she threatened. She was gone off to charm Alined into revealing the rest of his secrets to her before he could react. Merlin almost felt sorry for the man.

‘She won’t kill him, will she?’ he asked for good measure.

Lucas was still perfectly relaxed. ‘She won’t. We might threaten him a bit, gently remind him of the fact that we are aware he has very recently abducted King Olaf’s ward. And we might just let that slip to said king if he does not cooperate.’ The spook seemed wholly unconcerned about the prospect of using blackmail to get his way.

That was one thing that made Merlin always more or less uneasy about the spies, especially the more senior ones. They operated under a very questionable moral code, if they had one at all. They had no problems whatsoever threatening and blackmailing people to make sure that their country was safe. And in Merlin’s opinion that was infinitely wrong. They were supposed to be the good guys. They should not sink to their enemy’s level, because that made them just as bad. If they used the bad guys’ methods, then what right did they have to call themselves the good guys?

Lucas seemed to have read his mind. ‘You may not like how we work,’ he said brusquely. ‘But we do save lives and we will deliver that deal by whatever means open to us.’ The spook had his arms crossed over his chest, a guarded, defensive look in his eyes. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve never gone to the extremes to keep your king safe.’

That was below the belt and Lucas must know that. Merlin remembered all too well how desperate his measures sometimes had been. The memory of Morgana choking, slowly dying in his arms as a result of the poison he had given her sprang to mind. Yes, he too had resolved to desperate measure, but he told himself he had only done it as a last resort. He didn’t think things were quite as desperate yet as to justify this kind of action.

Lucas must have seen the change in his expression. ‘You should not be so quick to judge us,’ he all but snapped, his tone laced with something akin to hurt and indignation. ‘We’re not perfect, none of us. And if you want to remain on your precious moral high ground, then accept the fact that one day someone somewhere will finish your king off, because you were too reluctant to do what it took to protect him.’

The words hit him like a sledgehammer. In only a few well-chosen words Lucas had outlined why he did what he did. He did all those things that he did, no matter how horrible they were, in the name of protecting his kingdom. The comparison with Uther forced itself on Merlin. He too had done what he thought to be best for his people. He had of course been wrong about both his ideals and his methods, but the intentions were the same. When it came to protecting his people from what he perceived to be the bad guys, neither Uther nor the spooks seemed to have any limits.

‘I… I’m sorry,’ he stammered. This didn’t mean he was suddenly in awe of the whole plan, but at least it made him understand. In time he might even come to accept it as a necessary evil. Until then he might need his London allies every now and then to do what he could not.

Lucas gave him a stiff nod, his face still frozen in that same hurtful expression. ‘It’s all right, Merlin.’

The spook had half turned to leave already, when Merlin called him back. ‘Don’t you ever feel guilty about it?’

It was silent for a few seconds. ‘We can’t afford to,’ came the reply in the end. ‘The day we allow ourselves to doubt what we’re doing Britain will be in grave danger.’

He left before Merlin could formulate a coherent reaction to that. The warlock stayed behind to think those words over and over again, unsure of whether Lucas had just cleared things up or complicated them even further.

 

***

 

This had been a bad idea. It was not the first time Ros Myers had thought that and doubtlessly she would think it again before all of this was over.

The hunting party had left Camelot about an hour ago and until now they hadn’t seen any game, although there was bound to be some before lunchtime. In the meantime she used her time well by buttering up to King Alined. The man was absolutely ruthless and appeared to suffer from the lack of a conscience. Lady Elen was obviously married, but Alined conveniently ignored that piece of knowledge, flirting shamelessly with her. This might have been amusing had he not been so bad at it. Ros had played the honey-trap scenario a thousand times, resulting in knowing exactly how to flirt and seduce even those who didn’t want to be seduced. She would know when someone was good at this game and Alined wasn’t. His phrases came across as forced and altogether lame.

In the meantime Lucas had taken it upon himself to better acquaint himself with a certain Lord Harold, who Merlin had told her was also called The Grumpy behind his back. How he had gotten that nickname was painfully obvious to anyone who had eyes in their heads. Grumpy seemed to be his default setting and Ros had yet to hear something the nobleman did actually approve of. Section D had therefore put light surveillance on him. If he was as displeased with Arthur as he claimed to be, then he might be receptive to Alined’s evil schemes.

‘Excuse me, my lord,’ she told Alined in the end, even when it almost physically hurt her to speak those last two words. They were far too submissive for her taste, but unfortunately she would have to play the nice noblewoman till the time she could finally get back to Thames House. ‘I think my husband is calling me.’

She beckoned Merlin to keep a very close eye on the man and fell back to the rear of the column. Lucas got the hint and excused himself with Lord Harold as well.

‘What do you think?’ Ros asked in a hushed voice, although she should not have bothered. Merlin had just fallen off his horse, making enough noise to startle deer two miles away.

‘Complete waste of time,’ her colleague reported. ‘Our grumpy lord might not like how Arthur runs the kingdom, but he hates Morgana, magic and King Alined even more.’ He shook his head in mild amusement. ‘If he ever makes it to heaven he would probably complain to God about the volume of the bloody harp music.’

Ros stifled a snort of laughter at that mental picture. ‘Who said he’d ever make it to heaven?’ she commented.

‘Well, otherwise he can always complain to the devil about the heat of the cooking fires,’ Lucas shrugged. ‘Anything on your end?’

‘Apart from what we already knew?’

He nodded. ‘Preferably.’

‘Action is planned for after lunch. He mentioned a meeting with an accomplice then.’ Ros shook her head at how easily Alined parted with his secrets. Maybe it wasn’t that much of a surprise that his disruption of the peace talks several years ago had led to nothing. He was too easy to thwart.

‘What do you want me to do?’ Lucas seemed guarded and on edge. Ros had the feeling something had gone awry with Merlin just before the hunt, but she knew better than to ask about it. This clearly wasn’t the time and even if it was, he would sooner bite her head off than admit something was the matter. In that way too they were very much alike, too much perhaps.

‘We are going to deal with our big bloody fish during lunchtime, when he’s making that rendezvous,’ she decided, a plan already forming in her mind. It didn’t matter that she had already done that once before. As far as she was concerned the old and tested ones were usually most reliable. ‘Let’s hook him, land him, gut him.’ She offered him an evil smirk that might even put the Queen of Smirks Morgana to shame. ‘Play dirty.’

Lucas’s relaxed grin told her that at least for now all was well again. They were doing what they did best and thanks to Merlin it could be hours before they tracked any game. Maybe this hunt wasn’t too bad after all, especially not when it weren’t deer they were hunting.

Her assessment of not seeing as much as a rabbit for the rest of the morning had been spot on and by lunchtime Arthur was extremely moody. Ros knew for a fact that the king loved to hunt, although why was a complete mystery to her. Killing animals for the sheer fun of it seemed like a bloody waste of time to her when there were still so many bandits roaming the same woods. Speaking of bad governing.

But Arthur’s moods were none of her concern right now. His safety however was. So when she saw Alined going into the woods to “relieve himself” she dispatched Lucas and Merlin to keep an eye on them and wait for the accomplice before they took them down. Then she marched over to the knights of Arthur’s inner circle.

‘You!’ she barked at them. ‘If you as much as leave him out of your sight for as much of a second, then I’ll make sure the rest of your life is a living hell, understood?’ She had copied the threat from Arthur and found it to be quite effective. Combined with the right tone of voice no one ever seemed to doubt her ability to do exactly as she said.

She didn’t wait for the knights to voice their devotion, undying love or whatever the hell it was that they felt. They would do their duty. Theirs was a loyalty not often seen. They would do everything in their power to keep Arthur alive.

In the meantime she had a big fish to gut, so she followed her colleagues in the direction of the nearby lake, walking in on a very interesting scene indeed. Lucas had Alined tied against a tree already while Merlin was examining an unconscious form at the shore of the lake.

‘Impressive,’ she commented.

Lucas offered her a charming grin, the effect of it somewhat undermined by the beginnings of a shiner. His left eye was already half closed because of the swelling. ‘Tricky bastard,’ he remarked. ‘Not tricky enough though.’

Alined sent her a death glare that should have killed her on the spot. ‘Who are you?’ he demanded. ‘What do you want?’ His commanding tone would be impressive had he not been tied to a tree, sporting a rather large bruising on his face as well.

Ros ignored him. ‘Who’s that?’ she asked, beckoning to Merlin’s captive.

‘I don’t know,’ Alined replied with all the dignity he could still muster.

She tutted disapprovingly. ‘Of course you may choose to give up your partner in crime,’ she said, sighing. ‘In which case I will shortly carry out a very intense interrogation on him.’

‘Her,’ Merlin corrected.

Ros gave the accomplice a quick glance and saw that the warlock was right. The man was not a man, but a woman, and a young one too. The Section Chief thought she might be a part of the serving staff. It would seem Section D wasn’t the only party aware of the use of servants.

She shrugged. ‘Makes it even more interesting.’ The story behind this one was really not that hard to guess. The girl looked very young, not even out of her teens yet, and incredibly innocent. And Alined, being the womaniser that he was, would surely have made use of that youth and innocence. Tricky bastard indeed. Ros doubted the girl even realised she had been played from the start. ‘I’d think we all like to know what she is doing here and what exactly it is that she was coming here to give you.’

Alined never as much as blinked, which told her all she needed to know about the king’s affections, or rather lack thereof, for his accomplice. She had been a tool, to be discarded as soon as she had outlived her usefulness.

In her job she had seen more than enough of his kind and the thought made her sick. She kicked him, hard, in the balls, before grabbing them in a very painful grip. Now that made the man wince.

‘So, let me ask again, because I was brought up to be polite and because I’m in a good mood, who is she and what did she bring you?’ She kept her face perfectly blank, an expression she had perfected over the years. Inside this man disgusted her and she made a mental note to wash her hands, thoroughly, when she was done with this.

For a moment she thought he was going to refuse, so she squeezed again for good measure, making him squeal, literally. ‘Magical arrows!’ he panted. ‘They will never miss their target.’

‘How predictable,’ she stated. ‘And what, pray, did you think to do with them? Hang them over your bed for decoration?’

Alined, now fearful, but still not yet defeated, answered with a too quick ‘Nothing!’

‘Oh, there’s always something,’ Ros whispered in his ear. ‘Did you know I once killed a man with a fork? Didn’t take me more than a few seconds.’ She squeezed his private parts again to land the message home properly. ‘So, talk to me and I’ll let you keep them.’

That put the fear of God in him. ‘The assassination of Arthur Pendragon,’ he choked out, tears in his eyes from the pain she was causing him. ‘After lunch. One of my knights would fire them in the chaos of the hunt.’

‘And the girl?’ The question came from Lucas this time. His expression was positively dark by now and Ros thought she knew exactly what caused it. Lucas did not have very many weaknesses, but pretty damsels in distress were on the very top of the list. And this girl definitely fit the damsel-in-distress description and Alined was the guilty party in this whole sorry affair. Someone really ought to tell him he wasn’t the reincarnation of bloody Sir Lancelot!

‘What of her?’ The reply was so dismissive that even Ros could feel her blood starting to boil. Pathetic bastard. She kicked him again.

‘Here’s the deal, Alined,’ she told him. ‘You are going to hand those arrows over to my colleague here and we are going to forget everything that has happened here today.’

The scheming king gave her a quizzical look. He had clearly not been expecting this.

But of course there was a catch. ‘If, however, you fail to sign that agreement tomorrow first thing, I will personally make sure your life is a very short and painful one, do you understand?’ She squeezed again, causing the king to double over with pain.

‘Y-yes!’ he exclaimed, ready to tell her whatever it was that she wanted to hear if only she would release him.

‘Yeah, well, but here’s the point,’ she said, still talking as if this was an ordinary conversation about the weather. ‘I don’t think that I can trust you yet. I might need a few reassurances.’

Merlin came walking over, holding some interesting looking paperwork. ‘This might do,’ he reported. The warlock seemed uneasy about how they were going about this, but he at least cooperated, which was more than Ros had expected. He was a good spy, she would not go back on that, but he was more than a little hesitant about the less pleasant side of the job.

Lucas took the papers and flicked through them. ‘Weapon arrangements with King Odin?’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘My, my, only imagine Arthur’s reaction if he were to find out about this.’ Her colleague seemed to enjoy this more than strictly necessary.

The look in Alined’s eyes told the Section Chief that he knew he had lost. And so she smiled triumphantly. ‘Congratulations,’ she whispered. ‘Your testicles are yours to take home with you.’ She twisted them one last time and then let go while Alined was still recovering. ‘Just remember you won’t have them for much longer if you as much as think about double-crossing me.’

The king did not respond. He was still catching his breath. Lucas had cut him loose and left him on the ground. He was of no further use to them now, so Ros turned her back on him and walked over to the lake to wash her hands. She felt better after that. She ordered Merlin to take the girl back to Camelot and then returned to the group.

Lucas hooked his arm through hers. ‘He doesn’t like this.’

Ros didn’t need to hear a name to know who he was talking about. ‘He never will. But he’ll bloody well have to if he wants his king alive.’ Merlin would come to see that in time, she thought. But she was not going to spoil her by now very triumphant mood by worrying about the warlock’s spying abilities. ‘And at least Alined won’t try anything again soon.’

Lucas offered her his charming smile. ‘In his shoes I wouldn’t dare to either. You don’t think he’ll try something himself during the hunt?’

‘Oh, I don’t think so, no,’ she replied. ‘After all, I might just shoot off his private parts as a reward.’

Lucas raised his eyebrows. ‘I thought you said you couldn’t shoot with a crossbow?’

She unleashed her most evil smile on him. ‘Let’s not burden King Alined with that knowledge, shall we?’ she proposed.

And he laughed. ‘Let’s not,’ he agreed. ‘And who knows, you could be a natural.’

She snorted. ‘Who knows indeed.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was it, dear readers. I'm out of ideas for this. But if any of you have any good ideas, just let me know and I'll try to write it.   
> A comment would be very much appreciated.  
> Thank you for reading!


	7. Serving Breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ros gets breakfast served and Gwen wonders about strange visitors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this story is in progress again, because there will be a few outtakes for Just Another Normal Day posted in here. Not quite sure how many there will be, but we'll see.   
> This scene is an outtake for chapter 38 of Just Another Normal Day. Enjoy and please leave me a comment if you have the time.

It could not have been more than three hours after Ros had closed her eyes that she was dragged back to consciousness by the sounds of movement in her room. The Section Chief turned over and squeezed her eyes shut, still half asleep. And heaven knew she had earned her rest. She had spent most of the night helping to move her team into the empty rooms Arthur had given to them for their use. Of course she would have skipped another night of sleep entirely if given the chance, but Harry had been adamant. As soon as they were done she was to find a bed and get some rest, without the option.

Of course Ros wasn’t one to go down without a fight. There had been too many things that had still needed doing and with Arthur holed up in the council chamber trying to smooth the nobles’ very ruffled feathers, Ben and Connie still in London and Lucas still recovering from his ordeal, they were stretched thin enough as it were. Arthur had offered them the aid of his knights, but heaven knew most of them were more of a hindrance than a help, especially that pathetic excuse for a knight called Gwaine.

‘Harry…’ she had begun to protest.

He had cut her off by raising his hand, forestalling any protest she might have uttered. ‘This is non-negotiable, Rosalind,’ the boss had informed her. ‘When is the last time you slept?’

To that she had guiltily had to admit that she wasn’t sure. For all she knew she had been walking around on coffee and adrenaline for days now and the last time she had closed her eyes for a longer period of time might very well have been before Lucas had been captured.

‘Thought so,’ Harry had said with no small degree of smugness. ‘Get out of here, Ros. We’ll manage here without you till morning.’

Of that she had no doubt, but she wanted to be part of it. She did not want to sleep the day away while Morgana was still out there, walking this kingdom unpunished. As a result she had almost been convinced that she would not be able to sleep at all, but she must have dozed off eventually.

And she must have been sleepy, because it was only now that she realised that someone must be with her in the room. That was all the wake-up call she needed. She shot up, searching for the intruder whilst grabbing her gun from the bedside table at the same time. No one was supposed to be here and all her years in the Service had taught Ros that unexpected visitors never meant well.

She was met by the sight of a young woman with long black hair holding some clothes in her arms. She turned when she heard Ros move. Her face betrayed surprise, but no alarm and the Section Chief realised just a moment too late that her gun would mean nothing to the citizens of Camelot. ‘Who the bloody hell are you?’ she demanded. ‘And what are you doing in my room?’ The woman didn’t act like she had been caught in the act of sneaking in where she did not belong. She rather gave the impression of having every right to be here. Something about that was rather unnerving.

The woman curtsied. ‘I am Guinevere, my lady,’ she replied politely. ‘But everyone just calls me Gwen. Arthur asked me to look after you for the duration of your stay.’

Did he now? Ros put the gun away, but her mood had in no way improved. What had that sodding king been thinking? That she was just going to adept to whatever custom happened to be in fashion here? She valued her alliance with him, but the moment he thought he could rule her life, he would have another thing coming. She could manage on her own and she was just about to tell the maid to get out of here and leave her well alone when she realised something else as well.

The woman had introduced herself as Guinevere. Now, unless she was very much mistaken – and Ros wasn’t very often mistaken – then that was the name of Arthur’s queen and not of one of his servants. But the casual manner in which Gwen had mentioned his name betrayed some familiarity with the king as a person, because she was sure that most of the servants would not be allowed to address him in such a way. But clearly legend had been wrong about something again. Now that was something that did not even surprise her anymore. It had so far been wrong about pretty much everything else as well.

‘What am I supposed to be doing with a maidservant?’ she questioned, getting out of bed. Now that she was fully awake again she remembered that she had to get going, although she felt that she really could do with a cup of strong coffee, but the chances of getting those around here were slim to none, so she’d have to manage without.

Gwen did not seem to know how she was supposed to answer or interpret this question. ‘I am not sure what you mean, my lady,’ she said hesitantly.

‘Why are you here?’ Ros clarified. It wasn’t that hard a question now, was it? She walked over to the chair over which she had draped her clothes last night, only to find them gone. Only her boots were still there. ‘And where the bloody hell are my clothes?’ she added.

‘They needed to be washed,’ Gwen replied. Her calm behaviour reminded Ros of Malcolm and she found she didn’t find it any less annoying. ‘Arthur arranged for clothes to be brought to your room…’

‘Did he now?’ Ros sneered. What did that king think he was doing? ‘Well, get them back!’ she growled at the girl.

Gwen was wholly unimpressed. ‘They are still soaking wet, my lady,’ she replied. ‘And I have laid out something for you.’

If she meant that floor-length purple dress that hung over the dressing screen, then there was absolutely no way that the Section Chief was going to wear that. She liked to wear skirts, but they usually were knee-length. Anything longer than that belonged in the Dark Ages in Ros’s opinion. That of course was where she had the misfortune of ending up. She had to work hard to remind herself of why she was even here in the first place.

 _Morgana_ , she told herself. _Once we get her, I won’t have to put up with this sodding nonsense anymore._

It helped that she remembered what her purpose here was. That witch would not hang around Britain now that Hogan was taken. He would have been her guide to the twenty-first century. Without him she’d be lost. The Section Chief recalled all too well how hard a time Arthur and Merlin had to adapt. And without help from her team, they’d still be lost. And Morgana did not have any help anymore and she was a wanted person. If she was in the possession of some intelligence – which she seemed to be so far – then she’d stay far away from Britain.

It would make it harder to get to her as well, since CCTV was unavailable in this day and age. And so, it would seem, were any normal clothes.

‘I won’t wear that,’ she told the girl.

There was a brief flash of something on Gwen’s face. Ros believed it to be irritation, but she had her face back under control within the second. ‘I’ll see what I can do, my lady.’ The announcement was accompanied by a curtsy. Being polite was obviously important here, but Ros had not gotten into this line of work if she had not been able to read people. Gwen did by no means like her. The spy did not dislike the maidservant, but at the moment she represented traditions she did not want have anything to do with. She had other things to concern herself with and that Arthur had arranged all this while he should be worrying over a traitor within his walls, Lucas still not having woken and Morgana on the loose. That man needed to get his priorities sorted.

‘Good,’ Ros nodded. She forced herself to be a little milder, although it was not easy for her to do so. She didn’t do people for a reason. ‘Is there any news of my colleague?’ she demanded. ‘His name’s Lucas?’

The irritation on Gwen’s face made way for something that looked remarkably like pity. ‘I haven’t, my lady. Would you like me to look into it?’

Ros gave a curt nod. ‘Yes. Please.’ She had to force herself to get the last word out.

Guinevere curtsied again and left the room, leaving the Section Chief of Section D, MI-5 with a breakfast that was three times as large as what she normally ate in two days.

 

***

 

Gwen was used to difficult guests. She recalled the Lady Vivian from a few years ago all too well. That girl was a whining and spoiled princess if Gwen had ever seen one and it had taken the maidservant a lot of self-restraint not to lose her patience with the girl. She had worked all her life as a servant and she had seen quite a lot of different nobles over the years. She foolishly had believed she had seen it all.

Of course that was before Arthur had come home with these people. Gwen had watched from a window when that strange cart had driven into the courtyard seemingly without any horsepower at all. She had watched as three people had emerged from it: two men and one woman she did not at all recognise. The eldest man had been flustered, she could tell, worrying over the other man who was unconscious and needed to be carried into the castle. Percival had passed Gwen in the corridor as he hurried to get the injured man to the guest quarters. He had looked like he had already died, he was so pale.

That only left the woman Guinevere was now supposed to be looking after, Lady Rosalind of Britain. Arthur had not been willing to tell her much when he had made his request that she look after the Lady Rosalind. All she knew was that she was from a land far away and she was one of Arthur’s new allies.

‘I need you to look after her, Guinevere,’ Arthur had said, nearly pleading. ‘You’re one of the few people I can trust.’

There was no way she could have said no after that, not even if he had told her that the lady had manners worse than Lady Vivian. Arthur had told her nothing else, claimed that he could not do that yet, not even when she asked, so she had turned elsewhere for answers. When she had run into Merlin this morning, she had demanded some of him. Arthur’s servant had reacted with some shock, but he also spoken about Lady Rosalind as Ros, which clearly meant that he knew her well, even though Ros didn’t sound like a woman’s name at all.

Gwen did not learn what she had wanted to learn from that conversation, but she did find out that this lady was quite a handful, because Merlin immediately offered to wait on her, which must mean that this lady was quite a bit more terrifying than their average guest. Merlin had also said something about her being from the future, but he had spoken so fast that Gwen in hindsight couldn’t be sure if he had really said that or if she had just imagined it.

She had stuck with the things she had been able to make out. The ill man, apparently called Lucas, had been captured by Morgana and had been rescued only the previous day. According to Merlin, who had it from Gaius, he would make a full recovery. Gwen shuddered at the thought of what that man must have endured at the hands of Gwen’s former employer.

Lady Rosalind did not turn out to be too bad. True, she was moody and eyed Gwen with barely concealed suspicion. She snapped and told the maidservant she was not going to wear a dress. Had she been talking to anyone else, they would have run already, but she was Guinevere, who had waited on the Lady Morgana for years – and she had been a very difficult girl with plenty of mood swings at times – and she was quite honestly used to worse. And so she had remained calm in the face of Rosalind’s mood. It did however make her rethink what she had thought about the name. On second thought, Ros suited this snappy and irritable woman far better than Rosalind.

In a strange way she reminded Gwen of the Morgana she had once known. She too had been moody and difficult to please at times, but she was also loyal to a fault and worried about her friends. Lady Rosalind may have been trying to hide her concern when she had asked about Lucas, but Guinevere recognised a cry from the heart when she heard one. And that decided her. Lady Ros – as she now privately dubbed her, because that did seem to suit her – might be a difficult guest, but she was good at heart, like Morgana had once been.

And so she had retrieved the lady’s clothes, as requested, and made a detour to the guest room where she knew Lucas was staying to inquire after his health. She knocked softly and was admitted to the room promptly by the same servant that had looked after Arthur – or had tried to look after Arthur anyway – when Merlin had gone missing for a short while.

It was good to see that Lady Ros’s friend was seated at the table, eating. He was still dreadfully pale, but he was up and he even tried to get to his feet when she entered. ‘What can I do for you?’

Gwen curtsied. These days it was a habit, something she didn’t even need to think about anymore. ‘I’m Guinevere,’ she introduced herself. ‘Lady Rosalind’s maidservant. She wanted me to inquire after your health, my lord.’

She needed to ask, but she could make her own assessment at the same time. Gwen was an observant woman. Lord Lucas was awake and eating, but he had needed the support of the chair when he had stood up and he looked… haunted was the word, she supposed. Gwen was not sure what Morgana had done to him, but it was bound not to be pretty.

There was a flash of amusement on his face when she spoke, although Gwen could not say what had brought that on. Then there was a lop-sided grin. ‘You can tell her that I’m fine,’ he told Gwen. A frown crept onto his face. ‘Did you say that your name was Guinevere?’

Something about that seemed to confuse him. Gwen remembered that it had been the same with Lady Ros, although she had been able to hide it better. She wondered what that was about, but it did make her feel a little uneasy.

‘I did, my lord,’ she replied. She forced her face back into a smile. ‘Now, will there be anything else?’

For a moment it looked like he was about to shake his head, but then he seemed to remember something. ‘Could you tell her that colleagues are okay?’

Gwen curtsied again. ‘Of course.’

While part of her was not sure that she even wanted to know who these people all were, another part was getting curious. There was an air of mystery around them, which was not helped at all by Arthur’s evasive behaviour and Merlin’s apparent shock when he had heard that she was meant to serve Lady Ros.

The mystery had to wait for a moment however when she came back to the lady’s room. The food was untouched, as was the dress, but the lady still in her night’s clothes, but with strange boots and a leather jacket worn over it pacing the room. Whoever this woman was, she had no idea how things were done here.


	8. Tunnels and Baby Rats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a shorter way to the Isle of the Blessed. The problem? It's infested with Wildren.  
> Fits in between chapter 45 and 46 of Just Another Normal Day.

‘There’s a shorter way to the Isle of the Blessed,’ Arthur announced.

It was mid-morning and they were approaching the tunnels of Andor. Merlin had kept to himself thus far, not exactly in the mood to draw any kind of attention to himself, least of all Arthur’s attention. It was a given fact that the king of Camelot had not taken his revelation about being a Dragonlord well, hence the shouting they must have heard back in Camelot. If they were trying to keep this whole scheme of helping Lucas without him knowing a secret, then he feared he had failed in that mission already. Not that you’d know it from the way he was behaving. He was riding next to Gwaine, engaged in a very one-sided conversation. But then, talking to Gwaine was simple; all you had to do was hum and nod every once in a while.

‘And you failed to mention this before, why?’ Ros asked, wary immediately. They may be on the same side for once, but that clearly didn’t mean that the Section Chief had any patience for him when he didn’t do what she wanted. Ros had been on edge and difficult to be around for days. No, forget that. She had never been easy to be around. That privilege seemed to be for a select few only and Merlin was unlikely ever to be selected, not after openly doubting her colleague. Arthur, on the other hand, still stood a chance.

‘I thought I had,’ Arthur said airily.

‘To me, you did,’ Lucas confirmed. ‘You didn’t tell Ros.’

Lucas knew? Had Arthur told him everything? Merlin for one rather doubted that. Arthur had certainly not told Merlin all that he knew about these tunnels when they had first passed through them for fear he would freak out and refuse to go in. He didn’t think Lucas was the type to get scared of giant baby rats with an appetite for humans, and neither was Ros. They were used to terrorists with bombs. They had seen a whole lot worse than Wildren. It wouldn’t mean that they had to like it.

And Ros had narrowed her eyes, clearly not believing that there wasn’t more to this than she was told. ‘What is this route?’ she demanded.

‘It leads through a series of tunnels,’ Arthur replied easily. ‘It will take days off our journey. Which we will need, if we wish to reach the Isle before Morgana runs again.’

Such an explanation may have worked on Merlin – had he not known beforehand what was in those tunnels – and it certainly would have worked on the knights. Ros Myers however was a suspicious soul if ever he had seen one – he might even be tempted to use the word paranoid every now and then – and she saw right through the king. ‘What the hell is in those tunnels?’ she asked. ‘Or what are we going to encounter on our way there?’

‘There probably won’t be any bandits,’ Merlin said. ‘But we won’t be able to take the horses with us.’ He didn’t even know why he was trying to distract the attention from Arthur. Maybe it was because he wanted to get to the Isle as quickly as he could. Morgana wasn’t known to be easy to catch, and he feared that, the longer they waited, the more chance there was that she would run again. After all, there was every chance that she was by now aware that her ally was dead. The only advantage they had was that Merlin had shielded their small group from magical view and that she didn’t know Lucas had been awake when she made mention of where she would be going. Still, that nagging fear that she would be gone when they arrived kept turning his stomach into tight knots.

Of course, that was not the only thing plaguing his mind. Lucas had outright questioned his ability to do what was needed, and Merlin had wondered about the question ever since. At least it had been agreed that Arthur, Ros and Merlin himself would go after Lucas to make sure that he would be safe. The best way to keep him safe was to eliminate the threat, and the only one strong enough to do that, was Merlin. He was the only one with magic, the only one that had a weapon that stood a chance against Morgana.

‘What _are_ we going to encounter?’ Ros questioned. She had certainly realised that there was something he was not telling her. Really, he ought to have known better by now than to try and keep something from spies. It just wasn’t working.

‘Wildren,’ Gwaine said before either Merlin or Arthur could try and deflect the subject again.

Lucas frowned. ‘What are Wildren?’

‘You don’t have them where you come from?’ the knight asked, sounding pleasantly surprised.

Lucas shook his head. ‘Not to my knowledge.’

This only resulted in a wide grin from Gwaine. ‘I’ve never been to Britain, but I’m liking it already.’

Merlin was not surprised. So unlike Arthur and Merlin themselves, Gwaine would probably take all the strange things in his stride and head for the nearest tavern to contemplate the twenty-first century over a drink or three, possibly more. He had been trying to talk Lucas into letting him come to London for a visit. Lucas, who had been on the receiving end of very intensive interrogation without giving in, hadn’t budged this far. Of course, Gwaine quite liked a good challenge.

‘What are Wildren?’ Ros questioned, not prepared to let the matter go until someone gave her the answer she had been waiting for, getting more suspicious all the while.

‘They’re like giant… baby rats,’ Arthur said.

Ros’s frown remained firmly in place. ‘What about them?’

‘They feast on human flesh,’ the king admitted, reluctantly. That must be the first time anyone forced Arthur Pendragon into telling something he didn’t want to tell. But then, Ros Myers had that effect on everyone. ‘But we have one advantage,’ he added. ‘Wildren are completely blind, so they hunt by smell. Gaia berries will mask our scent and allow us to pass their territory completely unnoticed.’

Merlin tried and failed to suppress the memory of a Wildren snuffing around barely a centimetre away from his face. That was something that wasn’t easily forgotten. A shiver went down his spine. He supposed that he could just use his magic to blast the beasts away from them if they really did encounter them, but the knights didn’t know about his magic yet, and he wasn’t sure what effect magical blasts would have on the stability of the tunnels. That was a risk he’d rather not take. The Gaia berries were not ideal, but maybe the most reasonable solution they had.

Going by the fact that Ros was suddenly rather touchy-feely with her gun, she had a solution of her own in mind.

 

***

 

There was something Arthur Pendragon was not telling her, and Merlin had been rather too easy about all of this as well. There was something about the Wildren, Gwaine’s happy reaction to finding out they didn’t have them in Britain and Arthur’s optimistic prediction that they would be able to pass through the tunnels undetected if they just covered themselves in berries that would literally throw the massive bloody baby rats off the scent. Things didn’t add up, and that always boded ill in this line of work.

It didn’t help that she still felt very ill at ease in Camelot. She kept wishing for back-up that could be called with a mobile phone, transport that had wheels instead of hooves and sources of light that had nothing to do with open fire. These beasts they were about to encounter were just the latest madness she encountered in a rather short time. And she had just about enough of it. The sooner that witch was dealt with, the sooner she would be back in London, where life actually made sense.

‘Ros, catch!’

She caught the berries Lucas tossed at her more by reflex than by conscious action. He was already busy covering him in the stuff and he looked utterly ridiculous. ‘Don’t you look dashing,’ she commented sarcastically. ‘Walk like that into London and they’ll have you shipped off to the nearest mental asylum they can find.’

‘Harry might do that anyway,’ he remarked wryly. Ros was already trying to think of several ways she could use to get out of this potential emotional minefield, when Lucas obliged her by grinning. ‘And you haven’t even smelled them yet.’

Part of her was tempted to say that a few days didn’t matter much at all and that she for one was happy to go over the mountains if that meant she wouldn’t have to face terrifying beasts while covered in stinking berries, but that would be unprofessional. She had a job to do and she would do it, Wildren and berries notwithstanding.

‘I suppose I will soon enough,’ she said dryly.

The others were having a little too much fun with the whole berries business. Gwaine had shoved a few down Merlin’s tunic and the warlock gave an indignant yelp in response. Lucas had joined in the fun by shooting a few of his own with deadly precision at the offending knight when he wasn’t paying attention. One of them hit Gwaine in the mouth. The disgusted face he pulled made even Ros almost smile.

‘Taste is probably bad as well,’ Lucas reported with a twinkle in his eyes. That smile was just the wrong side of cheeky, but she was not really complaining. Not really, not when this was one of the first real smiles she’d seen from him since his ordeal at Morgana’s hands. Before this whole operation had begun she had thought him too cheeky and happy-go-lucky at times, but now she was mostly happy to see that he had more or less recovered enough to do this, even if he was getting on her nerves at the same time. She chalked it up to strong dislike of her presence in Camelot.

‘Bravo, Sherlock,’ she shot back.

‘Einstein, Sherlock, Lucas,’ he pondered. ‘You might send me straight into an identity crisis, Ros. Keep this up and I might not even remember who I really am.’

She rolled her eyes at him. ‘I find that rather difficult to imagine.’ With barely controlled disgust she eyes the berries in her hands. But there was no real point in waiting here till Second Coming – of which she was assured would not happen in this day and age, since it hadn’t happened in hers yet – and be the last one without the berries. Something told her that Gwaine would be most happy to help out. She squashed the berries in her fists and then, without wasting any more time, rubbed them in her face and neck. Lucas was right; the smell of the things was enough to make her feel violent urges to throw up.

But then, it was either rub them on her face and other patches of bare skin or be eaten alive. Since she preferred to come out of this with her  life, there was no choice at all. _So get it bloody well over with, Myers._

She did as she told herself and entered the tunnels with the rest of the group. Lucas seemed jumpy, whereas he had been completely relaxed outside. She supposed that enclosed spaces were always something of a challenge for someone who had lost eight years of his life locked up in a cell, but the others didn’t know that. She half expected another clever and supposedly witty commentary from Gwaine – the man seemed to spend most of his life trying to be funny and witty, with trying being the operative word – but he was equally jumpy, which surprised her.

‘Afraid of the dark, sir Gwaine?’ she scoffed. She considered it due payback for him having teased her relentlessly while still in Camelot.

He conjured up a smile. ‘Not with such a fair lady by my side.’

She could have sworn Lucas was trying to stifle a bout of laughter, but in the dark she could not be sure. There were not that many torches and it made Ros’s skin crawl. It made her appreciate London a whole lot better all of a sudden.

They were all rather quiet. Their ears were really all they had to go on in here and Ros didn’t like it at all. Time was almost immeasurable in the dark as well. It felt like she had been in here for hours, which was very well possible, since Arthur had said that they would go under the mountains instead of over them and that might take them the rest of the day and a good deal of the night. It would save time, but it would also mean a rather long and tiring march with no chance of a rest during the march, for fear they would find themselves hunted down by bloodthirsty Wildren.

But they had been walking for hours and hours and not a baby rat in sight. Her feet were aching, but  that was something she could cope with. Her hands, that had been in constant contact with her gun at first, now were occupied with other things. She carried a torch with one hand and used the other to check if her gun was still where it was when she had last checked it. It was, as she had known all along, but there was something about these tunnels that made her want to check again and again.

And with good reason too, she soon found when there was an unidentified noise in one of the tunnels. Ros couldn’t say what it sounded like, but it spelt danger rather clearly. The others stopped and exchanged glances that said more or less the same. Gwaine in particular seemed to pale a bit, even though it was hard to tell for sure with his face covered in paste. He had been here before, hadn’t he? There was something they had not been told about that time, Ros wagered.

‘Into that cave,’ Arthur hissed. There was something of an alcove nearby that, with some luck would hold all of them.

Gwaine was the first one to obey his king’s command. Strange, he hadn’t seemed like much of a coward before. Maybe all that bravado wasn’t anything more than just that, after all. Lucas seemed rather calm for someone who had been so jumpy before. He too was renewing his acquaintance with his gun. Merlin had no weapon, but there was something, some sort of calm, that had come over him. Would be about time that he put his magic  to good use, since she had not seen him do that before. Then again, if he hadn’t been capable of fending off Morgana magically, what made her so optimistic to think he would actually pull himself together and deal with that bloodthirsty beast that’d like to have them for dinner?

In the end, she got squeezed between Merlin and Lucas, the latter of whom had been pressed back into the cave, with no way to move or get out. His quickened breathing told her that a panic attack was lurking just behind the corner. Normally she would have let him near the exit, but that would be exposing him to the Wildren, and Lucas had seen more than his fair share of dangers already. So, she just grabbed his hand and let him squeeze it into jelly. She doubted he even knew he was doing it.

‘Keep breathing, you bloody fool,’ she hissed.

‘No, don’t breathe,’ Gwaine advised. ‘They can sense that.’

Not the right thing to say. The pressure on her left hand intensified and she rewarded Gwaine for his advice with a death glare that should have made him drop dead instantly. Bloody knight.

But this was hardly the time to lecture Gwaine on his non-existent people skills – not that she was one to talk really – because the beast was here. And it was all that Arthur had made it out to be: a giant baby rat. He just had forgotten – maybe deliberately so – to mention the huge fangs. It may be an advantage that the thing was blind and they were not, but Ros was not in the appreciating mood at the moment.

Not that she herself was in any immediate danger. Merlin was the lucky one in the danger zone. The beast was snuffing and smelling out his face, probably to find out if the warlock would make for a tasty meal, and Merlin had gone completely still in response. According to Arthur the Wildren would be put off by the smell of the Gaia berries, but this particular ugly specimen seemed to have developed a little too much interest in Merlin’s face. It should have been gone by now and it wasn’t.

People that didn’t do what they were supposed to do were always the sign that something was wrong, and Ros’s hand crept to her gun. Whether or not this beast was going to eat Merlin – and like it or not, they needed him – if the Wildren didn’t go away, they could be here all night and who knows how many of those beasts would come here in that time. And that was something they could not afford. Besides, Lucas’s breathing pattern indicated that things were bad and that he needed space to breathe, right now.

That decided her. She was a good shot, but even a child could have done this, the Wildren was this close. And she had shot down people; a beast was hardly going to present any troubles. There was no thought that went into this and she pulled the trigger with the same ease as she would have done if she was just making herself a cup of coffee. The bullet embedded itself into the monster’s brain and it died with a horrible scream that made her want to cover her ears against the sound.

‘What did you do?’ Arthur demanded angrily.

Ros turned on him. ‘If you’d want to be out of a servant, there are plenty of beasts here who’d be happy to oblige you,’ she snapped.

‘Yes, indeed,’ Arthur growled, rather uncharacteristically of him. ‘Because they hunt in packs.’

It took only half a second for her brain to connect the dots and figure out what exactly that meant. After that she was capable of one conscious thought only. _Shit!_

The rest of the trek through the tunnels was spent running, with the sounds of screeching Wildren following behind. Ros lost track of time, but she could have sworn that she had run for hours by the time she could smell clean and fresh air again. The sight of the stars and trees followed not soon after, and the company slowed down, panting. Some were sending her some angry glares as they marched over to the nearby stream to wash off the Gaia berries, which she ignored. Gwaine surprisingly was the only one who didn’t seem affected by the angry mood. Quite the contrary; he was smiling.

‘Glad to find I’m not the only Wildren slayer in all the land,’ he commented.

Ros merely glowered at him before turning to the stream to remove her own paste. ‘Next time we go over the mountains,’ she said.

No one protested.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This really is the last one-shot for this story. I hope you enjoyed it. Please review?


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